


Breaking the Cycle - Oneshots

by quietpastelcolours



Series: Breaking the Cycle [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Basically, F/M, Multi, cutesy domestic fluff, occasionally a hint of angst, some chapter's feature graphic violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-05-04 03:39:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 58,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5319050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietpastelcolours/pseuds/quietpastelcolours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the beginning of a compilation of random one-shots from my Breaking the Cycle AU. Whenever I write random little drabbles about this particular universe, this is where I'll post it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ralon's Pain

**Author's Note:**

> Despite being the crown prince and four years old, Ralon discovers that not even he is exempt from racial discrimination due to his Gerudo heritage.

Zelda’s brow furrowed as she followed the sound of small hurried footsteps interspersed with the occasional giggle. She was on the upper landing of the castle, tracking down her two naughty twins and their equally naughty playmate.

Safieta was the ringleader for this particular escapade; they’d slipped earthworms into her hand cream and  _escaped_. Ganondorf was no help; when he’d stopped laughing at her reaction to discovering the worm cream, he’d distracted her while the children made their escape. To most people, it would indeed be a surprise to find out that the ferocious Demon King cuddled and coddled his children to the point where he took their sides at all times. Honestly, she was just waiting for the day Saffie broke something important of his, just so she could watch him have a meltdown over whether or not he was going to get angry at his mischievous daughter.

Honestly, she was rather surprised that Saffie and Link had managed to rope Ralon into this; he was calm, quiet and well behaved, a distinct contrast to his wild sister. Sometimes, however, Saffie managed to convince him to join her in her plotting, along with Link, who at nine years of age as compared to the twins at four, considered himself the big brother of the group.

Zelda opened the door into one of the castle reception rooms to the sound of ferociously hushed giggling coming from behind a divan. A smirk on her lips, she tiptoed over to the divan and climbed onto the cushions, then gripped the back and leaned down with a roar.

“RARGH!”

“AHHH!” High pitched squeals followed this surprise, and Saffie fled for the hills, but Zelda caught the back of her dress and swung her into her lap. Crooking a finger at the two boys, she arranged her most menacing look on her face as they came creeping around to stand before her. Frowning hard at the little girl, she spoke.

“So, Saffie. Do you have anything to confess?” Goddesses above, it was hard to keep a straight face when the little girl was giggling so hard. “Nothing? What about you two?” 

Ralon peered anxiously up at his mother, clearly trying to figure out if he was in trouble or not. “Sorry Mama.” He whispered, and then his face crumpled.

“Oh, Ralon.” Zelda reached out and picked up her little boy, plonking him down in her lap beside his sister, patting the space beside her to indicate to Link he was to climb up as well. Link wormed his way under her arm as she kissed Ralon’s cheek and brushed his long curls out of his eyes. He had the long ringlets customary of small children before their first haircut, along with his sister, though as Ganondorf had refused point blank to allow her to cut his hair, her little boy had long hair far past the age that Hylian boys usually had theirs cut, which she knew caused considerable gossip amongst the court. “It’s alright, baby. I know for a fact this was your naughty sister’s idea.”

Saffie giggled hysterically and bounced up to kiss Zelda’s cheek, who laughed at the gesture. “Oh, don’t think you can get out of trouble with kissies, you cheeky little rabbit.”

In the years since the birth of the twins, Zelda and Ganondorf had been blessed with two more additions to their little family. With the more or less unofficial adoption of Link (since he technically still lived with his grandfather), their family was a never-ending parade of bouncy cherubs who had a talent for getting into untold amounts of trouble.

Zelda’s thoughts turned to her two other children; her daughters Ciery and Niruni, who were presumably still with Ganondorf in their bedchamber. She kissed Ralon again as he buried his face in her throat, hugging her tightly; he was a very sensitive little boy. She then nudged Saffie and Link.   
  
“Come on you lot. Let’s go find Papa.” Zelda grinned at the suddenly very excited two children. “He told me he was giving some chocolate to  _well-behaved_  babies.”

Saffie’s face fell. “So I don’t get any?” She asked. “What about Link!? He dug up the worms, Mama!”

Zelda barely stifled a laugh. “Oh he did, did he?”  
  
Link looked suddenly abashed. “Sorry Princess.” He said. “Saffie said-”

“No Link!” Yelped the little girl in question. “Don’t tell!”

 Narrowing her eyes in mock suspicion, she turned to Link. “Oh? What was that?”

Link turned bright red with the effort of not tattling.

Zelda rubbed his hair cheerfully. “Never mind. Come on, let’s go back to Papa now.”   
  
Standing up, she carried Ralon towards the circular chamber while Saffie and Link ran ahead.

“You okay baby?” She asked softly, rubbing his back. Ralon nodded and pressed himself closer, refusing to look at her. He could be naughty when he wanted to be (usually urged on by his ratbag of a sister), but once he realised he was in the wrong, he tended to become a little ball of sadness and regret, searching for comfort.

Zelda opened the door to the circular chambers and let Saffie and Link in first, where they ran over to where Ciery was sitting on a rug, face smeared with Chocolate. Ganondorf had a good amount of the stuff on his face as well, come to think of it.

Her husband stood up, concern written on his features as he noticed Ralon.

“What’s wrong with…?” He asked, reaching out and hand to stroke down the boy’s back.

“He’s upset because he thinks he’s been naughty.” She said in a low undertone. “Saffie roped him into it and now he feels bad.”

Ganondorf chuckled slightly to himself as he beheld his small son, face buried in Zelda’s throat. Poor little kid, always getting so worked up when he realised he’d done something wrong. That being said, Zelda’s scream and the look on her face when she’d found the worms had been one of the funniest things he’d ever seen.

“Here.” He said, holding out his hands. “Give him to me, and you can go and scold Saffie and Link, if you haven’t already done so.” 

Zelda smiled. “Gladly. Those two naughty things are going to be  _punished_.”

Ralon reached out and Ganondorf took his little boy in his arms, as his Mama gave him a last kiss on the cheek and ruffling his hair gently, before she took Saffie and Link by the hand and led them over to a divan on the other size of the room. Casting a watchful eye over Ciery, who was happily stuffing herself with chocolate, and Niruni, who, at only eight months, was napping peacefully in her bassinet, Ganondorf frowned to himself as Ralon let out a sob.

Sitting down in his favourite armchair, Ganondorf stroked Ralon’s back slowly until the little boy sat up, trying to wipe his tears.

“Sorry Papa.” He mumbled tearfully, and Ganondorf found himself frowning slightly. 

“What for? You didn’t put worms in  _my_  lotion.” He was struck by sudden suspicion. “You didn’t, did you?”

Ralon gave a watery giggle and shook his head. “No. Just Mama’s.” His big blue eyes filled with tears again. “Papa, I did a bad thing. I put worms in Mama’s cream jar.”

 Ganondorf nodded. “I know. Did you say sorry?”

“Yes!”

“And who’s idea was it?”

“Um… Saffie’s.”

“And who got the worms?”

“Link.” 

Ganondorf had to stifle a chuckle as he brushed his fingers over Ralon’s cheeks, wiping away the tears that had started to overflow. 

“So what’s the problem, my little man?”

“Well…” Ralon fidgeted a bit. “I put the worms in the jar, Papa. Saffie made me.”

“Uh huh. But you don’t like getting into trouble, do you? You don’t like it when Mama gets angry at you, do you?”

Ralon shook his head. “No.” He said, his voice wavering with his tears. “If Mama gets too angry, she won’t love me anymore.”

Ganondorf brows snapped together as he stared at his son. “What? Mama won’t  _love_  you? Wherever did you get that idea from?”

Ralon sniffled. “I can just tell. I don’t like it when Mama’s angry. She won’t love me, I can tell!”

Pulling the little boy in for a hug, Ganondorf considered things carefully. Ralon had apparently convinced himself that his mother’s anger over Saffie’s little practical jokes were enough to make her disown him or something. Such a silly reaction over something so inconsequential; but Ralon was a very sweet natured little boy, one easily upset. However, he got the impression there was something else.

“Ralon.” He murmured. “What else is wrong?”

The little boy looked down. “One of the other boys I play with; he said his Mama and Papa said it’s because Mama gets angry at me because Mama’s skin is different.”

Ganondorf froze, anger coursing through him. How  _dare_  these people bring up race to his son. He was only four, for Din’s sake!

“Ralon.” He said softly, working hard to conceal the anger. “Who said that?”

“Mabo. He said his Mama said my Mama doesn’t love me because her skin is better than mine. What does that mean, Papa?”

He swore very softly under his breath. How did he explain racial prejudice to a four year old? “Ralon.” He began. “In this world, not everyone is nice. Some people tend to think they’re better than everybody else because their skin is paler.” 

As he watched, his son’s eyes filled with tears again. “But Mama’s pale. So Mabo is right?”

“ _No_.” He said firmly, making a mental note to track down and speak to Mabo’s parents. “Your Mama loves you, no matter what colour your skin is.”

Ganondorf’s gaze met Zelda’s from across the room, and he jerked his head, indicating she ought to come back to her son. 

Finishing up with Saffie and Link, both of whom looked rather sulky from their scolding, Zelda crossed the room and sank down on the divan next to him, pulling her legs up beneath her, her smile fading as she realised just how upset Ralon was. 

Ganondorf frowned as Zelda touched Ralon’s arm and whispered his name, only for the little boy to turn away from her, his tears soaking his father’s vest as Ganondorf hugged him tighter.

_*what’s wrong with him?*_

Zelda looked concerned, and he responded in turn; evidently she didn’t want to upset Ralon further by speaking aloud – instead, she was using her magic to hold their conversation inside their minds.

_*he thinks you don’t love him anymore*_

Zelda’s mouth fell open with an audible noise.

_*what!?*_

_*Ralon’s somehow got it into his head that when you get mad at him, it means you don’t love him anymore. On top of that, some of the boys he’s been playing with say you don’t love him because he’s Gerudo and you’re not*_

Looking horrified, Zelda’s gaze dropped to her son, and then she anxiously touched his shoulder. “Ralon?” She whispered? “Ralon, sweetpea.”

With a sniffle, Ralon turned around to face his mother, and Ganondorf slid an arm around Zelda’s waist to haul her a little closer as he watched his wife and son. 

“Mama.” The little boy spoke in a very hesitant whisper, and suddenly Zelda was looking awfully teary herself as she wiped his tears away. Ganondorf gritted his teeth; how  _dare_  these people make his son so upset. While a good deal of outright  _physical_  hatred of the Gerudo had been abolished in the four years he’d been on the throne, there were still derogatory attitudes floating about in private, and now it seemed it was leaking through to the children. He highly doubted Mabo knew exactly what he was saying; likely, he’d heard his parents talking and was simply repeating it. Ganondorf sincerely hoped he could stamp out a little more prejudice before the children were much older; he didn’t want them to grow up in such a hostile world as he had.

“Ralon, pumpkin, what’s the matter?” She asked softly, and Ganondorf shifted Ralon a little closer, though the little boy still clung to his vest.

The little boy simply sniffled and shook his head.

“Oh, baby…” Zelda leaned in, kissing Ralon’s cheek and whispering motherly things into his ear. After a few minutes, Ralon had stopped crying and had one small hand tangled in his mother’s hair and his thumb in his mouth, resting his head against her shoulder as he listened to her comforting words.

Zelda smiled softly as her little boy finally emerged from her neck, wiping his nose and giving her a tiny smile in response. She brushed his hair back and then kissed his forehead. “Ralon, my tiny baby, I love you.”

Ralon looked up, his big blue eyes suddenly hopeful. “Really, Mama?”

“Really.” She said firmly. “You are my beautiful little boy, and you always will be. You are Gerudo, like your Papa, and  _that’s a good thing._  It certainly doesn’t mean I still don’t love you with all my heart.”

He smiled then, and kissed her cheek. “Thank you Mama. I’m sorry about the worms.”

She smiled back and kissed his nose. “Go and have some chocolate, huh?”

“Okie.” 

Zelda smiled at her children as they crowded around the plate of chocolate, getting it everywhere, and she leaned her head back against Ganondorf’s chest, laying her fingers over his as they rested on her waist. 

 “What’s he talking about?” She asked quietly, and felt her husband tense.

 “He’s got a friend called Mabo, apparently, who told him that his mother and father said that you wouldn’t like your children because they are Gerudo.” There was a pause, and she could hear the anger in his tone when he spoke. “I’m going to pay Mabo’s parents a little visit.” He growled. 

Zelda nodded, knowing that to caution him against violence was a futile exercise; this slight against his son would not go unpunished. In truth, she didn’t want it to.  
  
“Poor baby. How long has he been thinking that, do you think?”

“A while.” Ganondorf’s voice shook with supressed fury. “He’s the kind to bottle it up, you know that.”

“Do you think his other playmates say these kind of things? It’s not really fair to isolate him, and what about Saffie? Do you think she knows?”

Ganondorf shrugged beneath her. “I don’t think it would bother Saffie very much. Ralon’s much more sensitive, and I intend to speak to the parents of all the kids he plays with.”

“Good.” Zelda smiled slightly as Ciery toddled over and hit her Papa’s knee, the two-year-old’s way of asking to be picked up. Ganondorf dutifully scooped up his daughter, and Zelda touched her cheek before a tug at her skirts alerted her. Ralon was standing there, looking hopeful, cheeks sticky with chocolate.

“Mama?” He asked, and Zelda immediately leaned down and picked him up, snuggling him close. 

“Hello baby.” She murmured in his ear. “Had enough chocolate?”

“Mmm-hmm.” He hummed slowly, nestling in close and closing his eyes, his little fingers holding her neckline tightly as his thumb slipped into his mouth, and he looked utterly content. Saffie and Link both appeared, climbing into Ganondorf’s lap; the sizable Gerudo was the perfect breadth to fit his entire family on board. Brushing her lips over Ralon’s hair as he drifted off to sleep, Zelda leaned back against Ganondorf’s chest, her fingers touching each of her children’s heads before she touched her husbands jaw; he captured her fingers and kissed her fingers before relaxing deeply into the divan. Despite appearances, Zelda knew he was still incredibly angry, and her heart ached for her children and the unforgiving environment in which they had to grow up.


	2. Pork Stew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically, Ganondorf is never much perturbed by his oldest daughters mischief; being the Demon King, he is not adverse to being naughty himself. However, when Saffie pulls a prank on him, the tables are turned...

“Ciery!”

Zelda settled her hands on her hips, frowning into her chambers as she searched for her second youngest daughter. A bright coppery head of hair emerged from the shadow of an armchair, peering curiously over the edge.

“It’s dinner time, pumpkin. Come on.”

The little girl scrambled down from the chair and toddled over, tripping over her own feet at the last few steps and falling, catching herself just barely on Zelda’s skirts. Leaning down, she scooped up her daughter and kissed her cheek.

“All right, pumpkin?”

“Yes Mama.”

“Good girl.”

Zelda carried Ciery through to the dining room, where she sat the little girl in her chair. The rest of her family was there as well, Ganondorf employed in spooning meat stew into a bowl for Ralon. Saffie already had her meal, and was happily munching away, earning a frown from her mother; it was bad manners to begin the meal before everyone was seated. Sitting down herself, Zelda accepted the stew from Ganondorf and ladled a little into her bowl. The fragrant aroma drifted into her nose, and it seemed faintly familiar, but in a strange sort of way.

“Saffie, put that down.”

The little girl snatched her fingers back from where she’d been inching a ladle towards her and pouted over her meal.

Ganondorf snickered over his stew and pointed his knife at her; Zelda rolled her eyes.

“Lighten up Zelda. It’s not like she’s going to throw the ladle at someone.”

“Oh, you’re sure of that, are you? I’ll be sure to remind you when you’re cleaning soup out of your eyebrows.”

He snorted and ate another spoonful of stew. “The cooks have changed their recipe.” He said, brows furrowed as he regarded the meat on his spoon. “At least, I think so.” Ganondorf chewed experimentally and swallowed. “It doesn’t really taste like anything I’ve had before… whatever it is, I quite like it.”

Zelda raised a brow. “Oh? I wonder what it is then.” Lifting her own spoon, she tasted the stew, and then her brows shot up in recognition. She knew what it was; a very distinct flavour that she hadn’t had in years. Four years, to be exact.

“Um...” Swallowing hard, Zelda set down her spoon then covered Ganondorf’s hand with hers as he went to take another bite, putting his spoon back in his bowl and pulling it towards her as he stared in suspicion.

“Don’t eat that.” She said quietly; Ganondorf scowled.

“Why not?”

“Because… it’s pork.”

His brows disappeared into his hair and for a moment, he clearly was at a loss for words as he stared at her. Somewhere from further down the table, Zelda heard Saffie giggle, but disregarded it as Ganondorf shot to his feet.

 _“PORK!?”_ He roared, making the children jump, and Zelda hastily tasted another spoonful, then nodded, dabbing her lips with her serviette.

“Yes, it’s pork. I can’t understand it; the kitchens know not to serve it, why...?”

“I don’t know.” Ganondorf snapped darkly, spinning on his heel and wrenching open the servants door. “But I intend to find out.”

Zelda stared at Ganondorf as he disappeared down the stairs; he’d told her he’d never once eaten any pig at all in any of his lifetimes – and she could see why he was so angry about it.

Another giggle issued from the table, and Zelda turned her head, standing up to follow her husband and delivering an admonishment to Saffie at the same time.

“Don’t laugh at your Papa, please.” She said sharply. “He doesn’t like pork, you know that.”

“I know!” Chirped Saffie, clapping her hands. “Cookie said that too.”

Zelda stopped, one foot on the servant’s stairs, swivelling around to stare at her eldest daughter. Ralon was watching his twin with wide eyes.

“Saffie.” He asked. “What did you do?”

“Papa doesn’t like piggy.” She crowed in obvious delight. “So I made cookie make him piggy, as a joke!”

_Oh dear._

Zelda’s eyes widened as she heard distinctly accented shouting issuing from downstairs in the general region of the kitchen, and she turned and hurried down the stairs without another word, conscious of Ralon informing his sister that she was in fact quite stupid. She privately agreed, having always known that one day, Saffie was going to take her joking too far. Ganondorf was always very lenient with his daughter’s naughty habits, but she highly doubted he’d be willing to let this one slide.

There was a small knot of servants cowering at the foot of the stairs, listening to the shouting going on inside the kitchens; scullery girls and kitchen maids, from the looks of their clothing.

“Let me through, please.” Zelda said firmly, and the maids all scurried to the side, watching with wide eyes as she passed through the door and into the kitchen.

Ganondorf had stopped shouting for the moment, glaring through narrowed eyes at the cooks, three of whom were in tears, the fourth clearly trying to be brave as she faced him. At that moment, a light touch landed on his arm, and he turned his head to glare at Zelda, who looked quite composed, if a little bit wary.

“Calm down.” She said in Gerudo, giving him a hard look. “This wasn’t their fault.”

“Feh.” He spat in Hylian, so the cooks would understand, miserable creatures that they were. “Of course it was them; only they have access to my meals. They have served me _pork_ , Zelda. _This_ _is an insult of the worst kind.”_ Ganondorf trailed off, grinding his teeth in anger.

“ _Or_ …” Said Zelda calmly. “They were told to do so by a certain little girl who thinks playing jokes on people is funny.”

Ganondorf was silent for a moment as he digested this. “Safieta?” He asked, and Zelda nodded.

“She told me she convinced ‘cookie’ to switch the beef for pork.”

One of the cooks nodded tearfully, shrinking back as she met his gaze. “The little princess told me you wouldn’t mind, your Majesty. She said it would be a surprise…”

 _Hmph_. It was a surprise all right. He could still taste the stuff on his tongue, the forbidden flavour of it coating his teeth, and all of a sudden all he wanted to do was clean his mouth out. The insult was made doubly worse by the fact that it tasted _good_. Pork should not have such a decent flavour. The knowledge that it _did_ , when he’d managed to go so many centuries without ever tasting it, made his skin itch in fury. Right. _Safieta_. Where was she?

Zelda watched as abruptly Ganondorf spun on his heel and marched out the door, making the kitchen maids squeak and scatter in the terror, and then she heard his heavy footsteps thumping back up the stairs. She grimaced; Saffie was in for it now. She turned back to the cooks, and held out her hands.

“Come now, there’s no need to cry. His Majesty is simply… very _touchy_ about the consumption of pork, and I’m sure you can understand why. He’s angry, to be sure, but I’ll make sure he doesn’t take it out on you any more than he already has.” She paused. “Just… in the future, if Safieta, or any of the children ask you to make any changes to the menu, come and tell me before you do it.”

The cooks all nodded and curtsied, wiping their eyes. “Of – of course, your Majesty.” One of them stammered, and Zelda nodded, then turned to hurry back up the servants stairs.

Once she reached the top, she could hear crying, and frowned; opening the door, she saw Ralon sitting in his chair trying to distract Niruni, who was wailing. Ciery was by all accounts unperturbed by all; the toddler was building sand castles out of her mashed potato. Zelda sighed at the sight, scooping up Niruni and rocking her gently as she directed Ralon back over to the table to sit with Ciery, before she went in search of her husband and her eldest daughter, neither of whom were anywhere to be seen. She could, however, hear some angry words coming from his bedchamber.

Niruni had quieted by now, and Zelda cradled her as she slipped through the door as silently as possible, glancing around to see what was going on inside. Safieta was sitting in her Papa’s favourite armchair, tears on her cheeks as she blubbered a few unintelligible words, her Papa standing before her, arms folded, looking distinctly unimpressed. Then, Saffie looked around and saw her.

“Mama!” She cried, holding out her hands, and Zelda moved forwards to stand besides her husband as he glowered about the room.

Ganondorf narrowed his eyes as his wife appeared besides him, holding their youngest child in her arms.

“Is everything alright?” She asked softly, and he snorted.

“Saffie and I have had words, haven’t we, Saffie?” He said shortly, and Saffie nodded, more tears making their way down her cheeks. Ganondorf felt a twinge of guilt at making his daughter cry, but stamped the feeling down; she’d made him eat _pork_. She could do with a few more tears. “She knows not to do that again.”

“So everything’s sorted?” Zelda asked, laying a hand over his. Ganondorf nodded and laced his fingers with hers for a moment, his gaze again finding Saffie’s, and his eyes narrowed. _The naughty little thing._

“I think so.” He looked at her. “I have, for the most part, shouted myself out.”

Zelda rolled her eyes. “If only that were possible.” She said dryly. “Now here, you take Niruni, and go and see if you can get Ciery to stop putting potato in her hair. I’ll speak to Saffie now.” Clearly, this was an effort to distract him and get Saffie away from him. Ganondorf frowned, but accepted it; Saffie had most probably had enough, even if she deserved it.

Nodding, Ganondorf took Niruni, then leaned down and kissed Zelda’s cheek.

“Make sure she understands not to do that again.” He murmured in her ear. “I told her, but… I don’t know if she was really listening.”

“Because you were yelling at her?”

“Er… yes.”

Zelda smiled and touched his jaw. “She’s only four, you know. But not to worry – I’ll talk to her. You go rescue Ralon from Ciery’s potato mess.”

“Okay.”

With a last frowning look at Saffie, who was in fact little more then a mess of tears, he left the room, and grimaced when he saw the mess awaiting him; Ciery was wearing something of a potato hat, and had commandeered Ralon’s plate to add to her artwork, her brother watching her in wide eyed awe.

Ralon looked up, and his wide eyes became wider, if that were possible.

“Papa!” He cried. “Ciery’s not listening, I told her to stop-”

Ganondorf chuckled slightly and shook his head, his anger lessened by the rest of his children. Niruni burbled happily, and he let her capture his fingers in her own tiny ones as he moved to stand next to Ralon, who had a touch of fear in his eyes. That made him grimace; he didn’t _want_ his children to be scared of him. Perhaps he could ignore the pork for the moment while dealing with his other children.  
“Don’t worry Ralon.” He said, eyeing the remains of the terrible stew in disgust; Ciery had been painting with it, Zelda’s usually spotlessly white tablecloth now a complete mess. “Ciery’s been painting again, I see. Be a good boy and ring the servant’s bell, hey?”

While Ralon was ringing the bell, Ganondorf attempted to disengage Ciery from the potato; no easy task when he was both one handed and trying to avoid being splattered with food. At that moment, the door opened to reveal a maid, distracting him.

“Ah.” He said, raising his hand at the girl in recognition. “Have the children’s nurse come here immediately, I-” Ganondorf cut himself off when a handful of potato splattered over his face and landed in his beard, some of it dripping down onto Niruni. He narrowed his eyes at the maid, who muffled her giggle with her hand and looked petrified instead.

“I’m sorry, your Majesty-”

“Just get the nurse.” He said irritably, ignoring her as she curtsied and scurried off.

Ganondorf hoisted Ciery into the air by the back of her dress and held her over the table, letting the excess potato drip off, then kicked her highchair far enough away from the table that she couldn’t reach the food any longer, and set her back down. He nodded, pleased with himself, then picked up a serviette to wipe the potato from his face. As an afterthought, he also cleaned up Niruni.

“Ralon!” He called, waiting until the little boy was standing in front of him.

“Yes Papa?”

“You and Niruni have been the only well-behaved kids tonight; come over here.” Leading his son over to where he kept his assorted chocolates and sweets, Ganondorf gave the little boy a piece as a reward. “Good boy. Here you go.”

Ralon bounced in place. “Thank you Papa!” He chirped, then hugged his knee. Chuckling, Ganondorf reached down and picked the little boy up and received a kiss on the cheek that was sticky with chocolate.

At that moment, the door opened to reveal the nurse and her assistant; he rather liked her – she was no nonsense but kind. She clucked her tongue when she saw Ciery.  
“Well.” She said, picking up the little girl and examining her critically. “Someone needs a bath.” Nurse looked up at him expectantly. “Will you want to see them again before bed, your Majesty?”

“Uh… no, I don’t think so. Just… here, this one’s got potato on her too.”

Nurse took baby Niruni from his arms, then nodded to her assistant, who moved forwards to take Ciery.

“And the other princess?” Nurse asked, and he shook his head.

“Not yet; she’s with the Queen, but we’ll bring her down a little later.”

Ganondorf went to ruffle Ciery’s hair, but thought the better of it and hugged a potato free Ralon instead.

“Night Papa!” The little boy said, voice muffled by chocolate as he took Nurse’s hand, waving as she led him to the door.

Once three of his children had been borne off to the nursery, he went in search of the fourth. Opening the door, he found Zelda sitting with a still fairly teary Saffie curled in her lap. His wife smiled up at him.  
“Where’s everybody?” She asked.

“Nurse has taken them to bed, and… I assume Saffie will be going shortly too?”

“Mmm.” Zelda bent and whispered something into Saffie’s ear and kissing her forehead as the little girl sniffled against her neck, then held out a hand. “Will you come here?”

 _Hmph_. Ganondorf frowned slightly, but agreed. He supposed he wasn’t exactly angry anymore… just annoyed. Having sat down on the divan besides his wife, he raised a brow at her. Zelda simply smiled and turned Saffie around in her lap.

“Saffie has something to say to you.” She said, and his expectant gaze fell to his daughter. She fidgeted and swiped at her wet cheeks with chubby fingers, looking at him several times and clearly trying to find the courage to speak.

Ganondorf sighed and picked her up, pulling her into his lap.

“Come on Saffie.” He said gruffly. “You can do it.”

She sniffled loudly, then threw herself forwards, hugging him tightly. He barely heard the words ‘sorry Papa’ from under more tears.

He rolled his eyes at Zelda, who swatted his arm.

“Be nice.” She hissed.

Ganondorf nodded and pulled Saffie up so he could see her face, brushing her hair back. “There now.” He murmured. “No more tears, Saffie.”

She nodded and tried very hard to stop, but a few errant tears still escaped. “Sorry Papa.” She whispered again, voice pitiful.

“You know I don’t mind your tricks usually, hey Saff?”

The little girl nodded. “Yeah.”

“So how about we forget this one, so long as you promise you wont ever mess with other people’s food again, all right?”

“Okie Papa.” Saffie leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“Can you get back to the nursery on your own?”

“Yeah Papa! I’m a big girl.”

He grinned at that. “Of course you are. Run along now.” Ganondorf set his daughter on the ground and ruffled her long blonde hair. “Good night, Saffie.”

“Night Papa, night Mama.”

He watched as Saffie got a goodnight kiss from her mama, then toddled off through the door, back to the nursery, now looking quite cheerful.

Ganondorf smirked at Zelda, who was smiling at him. “What’s that look for, madam?” He asked, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her closer.

“You are a funny man.” She said with a grin. “Even when you’re mad, you can’t stay mad, can you? Those kids have you wrapped round their little fingers.”

He rolled his eyes, then sighed. “I barely even got any dinner.”

“Never mind. I’ll have the maids bring something up after they’ve cleaned up in there. I suppose it’s rather a warzone in the dining room?”

“Ciery was finger painting.”

“Ah.”

Zelda’s smile widened, and he narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion. “Why’re you smiling at me like that?”

Her fingers brushed along the side of his jaw. “I’m very pleased with you, actually. You were tricked into eating pork; I was just _dreading_ trying to calm you down, but you managed it all by yourself.”

Ganondorf raised a sceptical brow. “You make me sound like a spoiled child.”

Her fingers moved to his lips, and he captured one with his teeth, making her gasp before she replied.

 “Are you not?”

He gave her the most withering stare he could manage, but it didn’t work; Zelda only smiled and pushed herself up onto her knees so she could kiss his cheek, and he pulled her over so she straddled his thighs, his hands roaming over her hips. He eyed her slender form appraisingly; why, Niruni was nearly a year old – it was high time they had another child. Now was certainly a good time to do it.

“But it doesn’t-” Zelda broke off, looking confused. “Is that – _potato?”_

Sighing in disgust, Ganondorf scrubbed his cheek. “Ciery.” He said by way of explanation.

Zelda laughed and leaned in until she was practically nose-to-nose with him. “Oh dear. At least you didn’t lambast _her_ , or so I presume.”

He scowled at her. “You make me seem so unreasonable.”

“Oh trust me, you are; you just don’t realise it.”

“Wretch.” He growled, and then Zelda leaned in and kissed him lightly.

“Come on.” She whispered against his lips. “Let bygones be bygones.” Pulling back, she tapped his nose cheekily. “Let’s go and eat dinner.”

Ganondorf rolled his eyes and stood up, carrying her to his bed and placing her gently down. “Ah, no, I don’t think so.”

“Indeed? You’d go without your dinner?” Zelda teased as she traced her fingers along his jaw.

He grinned against her laughing mouth as he pulled her hands over her head. “Oh, I’ll be eating all right, but it sure won’t be _pork_.”


	3. Ralon finds his Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I wanted to try my hand at writing in a child’s POV, and what better child than Ralon?
> 
> In this one, Zelda has been teaching him magic, but he hasn’t been able to do any yet. He finally figures out how to make the petals on a daisy move, and now he’s off on an adventure to find his mama so he can show her.

Ralon held his breath, staring at the small daisy in the palm of his hand with undisguised awe. He’d done it! Wouldn’t mama be proud? But where was mama? Climbing down from papa’s favourite chair in the nursery (Ralon always felt tall when he sat on it), he looked around, his thumb unconsciously finding its way into his mouth as he wondered where his mama was.

Glancing over, he could see Saffie sitting with Link, talking and sneaking nanny glances – he knew they were going to joke someone soon, and he decided to leave before they joked  _him_. Nanny was knitting, his sister Ciery sitting near her and building a castle out of blocks, and his smaller sister Runi was asleep in her cot. Giving a satisfied nod, Ralon trotted over to the door, turning the knob and slipping through without telling nanny he was going. He felt a little bad – nanny would be worried when she noticed he was gone, but he had to find mama!

Small daisy clutched in the palm of his small hand, Ralon toddled down the corridor, wondering where to go first. Mama could be anywhere, and the castle was very big. She could be in her room, or she could be having a meeting, or she could be with papa… Ralon wrinkled his nose – he’d once gone looking for papa and found him making the funniest noises with mama in their bed. Shaking his head, the little boy turned a corner, deciding to forget that memory – after all, papa and mama didn’t know he’d been there.

Ralon decided to check the places where mama held her meetings first – mama usually had meetings with boring old men in the daytime, with cuddles and playtime at night. He grinned happily, pulling at a growing fang with his thumb as he imagined all the cuddles he’d get from mama for this! He loved his cuddles with mama – and papa too, but mama always made him feel special. Chubby fingers poked at the daisy petals, and he couldn’t help giggling slightly, a spring in his step as he rounded another corner to find two guards outside a door.

“Hallo, its the little prince!” Said one guard, looking surprised to see him there. Ralon smiled happily – mama and papa had told him if he was ever in trouble and they weren’t there, the guards would help him. Papa had said if they didn’t, he would hamstring them, but as Ralon didn’t know what that meant, he ignored it. He wasn’t in trouble, but the guards could still help him! Maybe they knew where mama was!

“Hello.” He said, carefully switching over to Hylian words. His mama and papa spoke with Gerudo words to them most times, though mama did often use her Hylian words – she had told him she was Hylian, and that’s why she looked different to papa – but the other people in the castle didn’t use Gerudo words at all! It seemed very silly to Ralon.

“What are you doing out of your nursery, little prince?” Asked the second guard, crouching down, which made Ralon feel much better. He liked people who came down to his height – he really couldn’t wait until he was as big and tall as papa. Wouldn’t that be amazing? Saffie wouldn’t dare put worms in his shoes  _then_.

Ralon held out the flower. “I’m looking for Mama. Do you know where she is?”

The two guards looked at each other, the one with a droopy moustache rubbing his chin – it made his moustache wiggle, and Ralon giggled slightly.

“Do you know where the Queen is?”

Ralon waited patiently – other people called mama ‘Queen’ and papa ‘King’, even though he knew his mama’s name was Zelda – he knew his papa’s name, but it was long and he couldn’t say it very well. Papa’s name didn’t matter, and neither did their titles. Mama and papa might have other names, but to him they were his mama and papa, and he liked that best.

“No, I haven’t seen her today.”

The guard who was crouching talked then. “We don’t know where your Mama is, little prince, but we know where your Papa is. Do you want us to take you to him? He might know where to find your Mama.”

Ralon considered this carefully.  He had wanted to find his mama, but if his papa came, he’d see the daisy too, and then he’d get more cuddles! It was a good plan.

“Okay.” He said. “Where’s Papa?”

The guard stood up. “I’ll take him.” He said to droopy moustache. “You stay at our post – I’ll be back in a moment.”

Droopy moustache nodded, and Ralon found himself being scooped into the air. He smiled happily – he liked being carried, because it made him feel tall.

“Let’s go, little prince.” Said the guard kindly, and Ralon liked him at once.

“I have a surprise for Mama.” He said importantly, and the guard grinned.

“Oh? What kind of surprise?”

“See?” Ralon held out the flower, and the guard whistled.

“Very nice.”

“Can you make that noise again?” The little boy asked, making the guard chuckle and whistle a song. Ralon goggled.

“How do you do that?” He asked.

The guard spent the entire walk showing him how to whistle, and by the end of it, Ralon could make a funny noise by blowing hard through his teeth.

“Very good.” Said the guard. “If you’ll practice, you’ll be able to whistle by the time you get much older.”

Nodding excitedly, Ralon thanked the guard as the man knocked on the door to papa’s war room, and he heard his papa tell them to enter. Ralon watched with wide eyes as the heavy door swung open – he’d only been inside a few times, but everything in there was so interesting! Big chairs and maps and lots and lots of paper. His papa had a very big desk, and sometimes mama would be there too. Maybe she was there now!

The guard walking into the room and bowed, which tipped Ralon up and made him laugh. His papa was watching curiously, sitting at his big desk.

“What’s this?” He asked, and Ralon held out his flower importantly.

The guard answered his papa. “The little prince was wandering around the castle looking for the Queen, your Majesty. I’m not sure where her Majesty is, so I thought I’d bring him to you.”

Ralon watched as his papa nodded.

“Thank you.” He said in his deep and growly voice – Ralon liked his papa’s voice, because when he sat on his papa’s lap and papa talked, his chest was all rumbly.

The guard put him on the ground, bowed again and left – Ralon waved at him, and the guard waved back before he shut the door. He suddenly found himself being picked up again – this time by his papa. Ralon grinned in excitement – now he was tall enough to see  _everything!_

“Papa!” He exclaimed happily, hugging his papa tightly.

“Hello Ralon.” His papa said, moving to sit back down at his big desk. “What are you doing here, you little scamp?”

“I’m looking for Mama, Papa. Do you know where she is?”

“I do. What do you want her for? You’re supposed to be in the nursery with nanny.”

Ralon leaned forwards. “It’s a secret, but I can tell you, Papa.” He held out his flower. “Look!”

As they both watched, Ralon concentrated hard, and very slowly, faint blue shimmer tinted the white petals, and they furled up into a tight bud. At his papa’s gasp of astonishment, he concentrated harder, and the petals unfolded again.

“See! Like Mama’s been teaching me!” He chirped, bouncing a little in his excitement. His papa smiled, and Ralon felt almost deliriously happy – it was hard to make his papa smile sometimes, so this meant he was happy!

“Congratulations, my little man.” Papa brushed his hair back, and Ralon beamed. “You’ve done magic.”

“Mama said it would be hard, and I might not do it for a whole year, but I can do it, Papa! That’s why I need to show Mama.”

Papa smiled wider, and Ralon poked at his fangs. “Your teeth are pointy and sharp, Papa.” He said, then bared his own teeth. “Like mine!”

“Indeed. One day you will be a most ferocious Gerudo, my son.” His papa had that funny look in his eye again – he looked that way sometimes, only when he was looking at him, not his sisters. Mama had said it was because it was very hard for Gerudo sons to be born – and that meant he was special, like his papa. Ralon loved this, because there was no one he wanted to be like more than his papa.

“Really, Papa?” the little boy asked excitedly. “Will I be like you when I grow up?”

“You will. You’ll be big and strong, and you’ll be a King.” His papa sounded very proud now, and Ralon hugged him tightly, burrowing his head under his papa’s hair.

“I want to be like you, Papa.” He whispered, and papa hugged him back, snuggling him close. Ralon gave a happy sigh – he did love being hugged by mama and papa. It was the best feeling in the world. Some of the boys he played with had told him that  _real_  men didn’t hug their mama’s and papa’s, and so he’d once tried to go a few days without any cuddles, but then he’d had a nightmare and mama had come to the rescue, and she had given him the best snuggle ever. Ralon didn’t listen to those silly boys anymore.

“Shall we go find Mama now?” Asked papa gruffly, his voice all funny and rumbly again, and Ralon nodded excitedly, making sure he still had his flower.

“Yes!” He yelped, and papa chuckled and stood up.

“Ready?”

Ralon nodded excitedly – papa was going to use magic to go to mama now, and he loved papa’s magic. The room blurred and swirled around them, and then papa was standing in mama’s study, and mama was sitting at her desk, looking surprised.

“Hello.” She said, putting down her pen and standing up. “What have we here?”

Papa spoke first, while Ralon furiously remembered exactly how to do the magic. It was very important he didn’t mess up in front of mama.

“Ralon’s got a surprise for you.”

His mama said “Oh?” at the exact moment Ralon shushed his papa furiously.

“Papa! Don’t tell!”

Papa chuckled, and then he picked up mama, making her gasp (papa was so  _strong!_ ), and carried both of them over to mama’s divan, and he sat down, with mama in his lap, and Ralon in hers.

Ralon bounced forwards and kissed his mama on the cheek, which made her laugh. “Hello, my little cuddlebug.” She said, kissing his nose. “What’s this surprise?”

Ralon held out his flower. “Watch this, Mama. I can do magic.” He said as importantly as he could manage.

Staring at the flower, he furrowed his brow in concentration. Nothing happened. Biting his lip anxiously, Ralon tried again, all sorts of scary thoughts running through his mind. What if he couldn’t do it? Mama would surely laugh at him for not being able to do it. The flower didn’t move, and the little boy felt his lower lip wobble as he looked up at his mama.

“Its not working Mama!” He said, voice wobbling. Ralon sniffled, feeling tears appear in his eyes; it didn’t work. Mama would think he was silly now.

Mama’s fingers brushed gently over his cheeks, wiping away his tears as papa spoke.

“He did it before.” Papa said softly to mama. “He can do it.”

Mama leaned forwards and hugged him, and Ralon gave up trying to be brave and buried his face in her neck, crying hard. He’d disappointed his mama and his papa – papa knew he could do it, and now that he couldn’t, papa would think he was silly too. Ralon could feel his mama rubbing his back, and he hiccupped, mama’s nice smell drifting into his nose. Mama always smelled nice and familiar – the little boy didn’t realise it, but it helped calm him a little.

“There now Ralon.” Mama whispered in his ear. “Magic is hard, baby. You don’t need to cry if you can’t do it yet.”

“But I  _can_  do it Mama!” He sniffled into her neck. He wanted to make mama proud, and now he couldn’t. It wasn’t  _fair_.

“Then dry your tears, and try again. Practice makes perfect, you know that.”

How was mama so comforting? She could make anything feel better. Ralon sniffled again and sat up, and mama helped him wipe his tears away. He took a deep breath and picked up the flower, concentrating harder than he ever had before in his life. Suddenly, the petals twitched.

“Mama!” He said. “Did you see that?”

“I saw it, baby. Good work. Keep going!”

Concentrating harder, Ralon felt his smile grow as the petals slowly furled into a tight bud. His mama’s happy noise made everything worth it, and he beamed at her.

“I did it, Mama.” He said, and suddenly, mama was hugging him tightly.

“You did do it, baby. I’m so proud of you.” She whispered into his ear. Ralon giggled happily and pulled back, slipping his thumb into his mouth as papa ruffled his hair.

“Well done, Ralon.” He said, sounding just as proud as mama. Ralon smiled at his parents, pleased with himself, then yawned around his thumb, which made mama smile.

“Feeling sleepy, huh? Magic does that. Go to sleep, baby.” She pulled him closer so he was snuggled up against her – the perfect spot for taking a nap. His papa was holding mama the same way she was holding him, Ralon noticed sleepily. He put his thumb back in his mouth and grabbed hold of mama’s dress with little fingers to make sure she didn’t go anywhere. With mama and papa’s low voices in the background, one very content little boy drifted off to sleep to dream of flowers, magic, and pleasant things.


	4. Baby number four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a small drabble in which Zelda tells Ganondorf she’s pregnant with Niruni. The catch? Ciery was born not quite three months previously.

Ganondorf paused in the middle of mumbling under his breath as the door was thrown open with a crash to reveal a decidedly wrathful Hylian Queen standing there. Raising a brow, he set down his pen and leaned back in his chair; no paperwork was going to get done now. He watched as Zelda narrowed her eyes – funnily enough, she appeared more theatrical than seriously angry.

“I have a bone to pick with you.” Zelda said by way of greeting, and then, to his utter surprise, she stalked across the room and sat down on his lap. Sliding an arm around her waist, the other resting on her thigh, Ganondorf frowned in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, and Zelda snorted as her fingers sank into his robes.  
“What’s wrong?  _What’s_   _wrong_ , he asks.” She tossed her hair and wrinkled her nose.  “It’s almost as if this isn’t his  _entire_   _fault_.”

Ganondorf frowned harder – perhaps she’d found out about Saffie’s plans. “Look, if this is about Saffie, she made me swear not to tell you-”

“It’s got nothing to do with Saffie-” Zelda paused and narrowed her eyes in real suspicion. “-why, what’s she done  _now?”_

_Ah_. She didn’t know about Saffie’s plan to fill all of her mama’s shoes with mud. “Uh, never mind. I sorted it out.” Ganondorf raised a brow and tried to distract her. “So… what’s my fault?”

Zelda straightened and put her nose in the air. “You barely gave me a month! One month! Can you even believe it? I might die on the spot.”

He exhaled in confusion. “…A month?”

Zelda swelled with fresh indignation. “Yes, a  _month_. Ciery’s barely two months old, and you go and do this!”

Ganondorf was officially more bewildered than ever. “Alright, Zelda, back up a minute. What has that got to do with Ciery?”

Zelda twisted her mouth in clear umbrage at his statement. “I don’t want a repeat of the twins, Zelda.” She said in a poor imitation of his voice. “Don’t make me  _wait_ , Zelda. It’s  _torture_ , Zelda. Let me bed you sooner,  _Zelda_.”

She crossed her arms and glared while he attempted to catch up.

“Wait. Is this your own interesting way of saying… you’re pregnant?”

Zelda frowned at her husband and the ridiculously wide grin currently spreading across his features. “I don’t know what you’re smiling about.” She said snippily. “Because you are in  _trouble_.”

Ganondorf merely grinned wider, brushing his fingers over her cheek. “Already?”

Zelda threw her hands in the air. “That’s what I mean! It’s not even three months since I gave last birth, and I’m pregnant  _again!?_ This is all your fault.”

“What wonderful news.” Ganondorf said, his hand finding her belly and exploring it with his fingers.

Zelda frowned at him again. “I’m not showing yet, not really.”

It was Ganondorf’s turn to frown at her. “And… you’re angry? You don’t want the child?” He murmured, and she could see the real hurt in his eyes.

Zelda sighed. “Don’t be foolish. Of course I want the child; just not quite so  _soon_.”

He nodded, a pleased gleam in his eye. Of course, Ganondorf would be more than pleased – most likely he was ecstatic. He’d made no secret of how much he wanted children. “So you’re upset because it’s so soon? That’s the only reason?”

“Of course.” A glimmer of indignation returned to her, and she poked him in the chest. “Do you even understand what I’m saying? This will give us four children, Gan!  _Four_ , in pretty much three years! My ratio of pregnant to not pregnant is  _completely_  ridiculous, and it’s  _all your fault_. I hope you’re happy.” 

The corner of his mouth hitched up. “Oh, I’m happy.” He purred against her ear. “I’m  _very_ happy.”

Ganondorf kissed his wife deeply, relishing the feel of her lips against his. Zelda sighed slightly against his mouth before she kissed him back, her hands looping around his neck. His fingers still rested against her belly, exploring what was now flat stomach, but would soon be round with his child. The thought filled him with pride; she was right, it was  _very_  early to fall pregnant again.

Pulling back slightly, he leaned down to nip at her ear, drawing a slight gasp from her throat.

“You’re right; it’s very soon.” He murmured, and stifled a grin, picturing her reaction to his next words. “Proof of my virility, don’t you think?”

Zelda reacted the way he thought she would; she pulled back and frowned hard, hands on her hips. “Don’t be so ridiculous.” She said peevishly. “It’s far more likely you simply wormed your way into my bed during the peak of my fertile window.”

Ganondorf rolled his eyes and grinned. “Wormed my way in, did I?”

She snickered slightly. “Oh yes, you and that silver tongue of yours.”

He smirked and leaned in, grazing his teeth lightly over the shell of her ear until she shivered. “As I recall, you didn’t exactly protest. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

Zelda’s fingers crept back into his hair. “Don’t try and shift the blame. This is still all your fault.”

He frowned at her, and Zelda laughed and kissed his cheek. “Oh.” She said, wrinkling her nose. “I can’t believe I’m with child both  _again_  and  _already_. I’ve spent more time pregnant since we married then not pregnant! Ridiculous.”

“ _Good_.” Ganondorf countered. “You’re the mother of three beautiful children, my children, and soon to be four… I can’t think of a better reason to adore you.”

Zelda blushed pink and cuddled closer, a pleased smile on her face, while he concealed a slight frown. He always had to have a war with himself whenever he spoke so  _sappily_ to his wife – on the one hand, she was the reason the cycle of the Triforce was broken, the mother of his children – the emotion he felt for her was something that affected him in a way he had cared for nothing else in a very long time – but he was the Demon King, and he disliked such open emotion. Ganondorf had come to the conclusion a while ago that as long as Zelda possessed the only ears to ever hear these disgustingly gooey words leave his lips, he could probably stand to say them. It was worth it, however, to see the smile on her face. He had to stop a small sigh; not yet four years of marriage, and he still couldn’t quite believe how deep he was in when it came to his wife.

Zelda smiled as she laid her cheek against Ganondorf’s shoulder. He managed to completely blindside her each time he came out with such a statement, and for a moment, she forgot her indignation. Slowly, however, it came trickling back.

“I’m going to get big again and lose sight of my ankles.” She sighed. “I  _like_  having ankles.”

“It’s worth it, though.” Ganondorf said, his voice rather far away. Zelda just  _knew_  he was picturing her heavily pregnant; she wasn’t entirely sure why he seemed to like it so much.

“Hah! Maybe for you.” She countered. “You just get to sit back and await the birth; I have to suffer though morning sickness and swollen feet and my back hurting and feeling tired and the baby kicking and  _giving birth_ and-”

Ganondorf covered her mouth with his hand. “I get the picture.”

“Ugh.” Zelda leaned up against his shoulder again, her hand covering his as it rested on her belly. “No more after this one.”

She hadn’t really meant her words to be serious; who knew what the future would bring? But Ganondorf stiffened beneath her.

“What?” He asked, tilting her chin so he could see her face. “Only four?”

Zelda almost giggled at the tone of genuine disappointment in his voice. “ _Only?_ ” She said, then, seeing how crushed he looked, sighed and laid a hand on his cheek. “I was kidding; I  _am_  open to having more children in the future.”

Ganondorf instantly brightened. “Twenty four?” He asked, and though his tone was joking, Zelda nearly had a heart attack just imagining it.

“ _Twenty four?_  Have you lost your mind?” The horror of what he was describing ran danced through her mind. “I’d end up being pregnant for pretty much a quarter of a century!”

“Mmm.” Mused Ganondorf, nodding slightly. “I like it.”

“ _I_  don’t.” Zelda sniffed. “I absolutely refuse to have any more than-” But she cut herself off, and the Gerudo looked suspiciously at her, amusement written on his features.

“Oh? How many?”

“I’m not going to answer that.” Zelda said firmly. “I do have a number, but what if it ends up higher than what you were going to say? You’ll switch to the higher number and then I’ll never get any peace.” She frowned at him as his smirk widened. “What’s  _your_ number?”

Ganondorf shrugged carelessly. “I wouldn’t object to fifteen or so.”

Fifteen children? Fourteen pregnancies? Fourteen births?  _More_  than ten? “Ew. That is higher than my number though, which is good.” Zelda sighed in relief.

It was Ganondorf’s turn to frown. “What’s your number? I hope you’re not going to say something ridiculous; like you don’t want more than six.”

Zelda frowned at him. “As a matter of fact, ten is the absolute highest number I’ll go. That being said, I’m perfectly content with having less than that. Six is fine, and so is less than six.”

As his look of scepticism, she shrugged. “What? That’s still more than other Hylian’s. Most of those at court only have one or two.”

Ganondorf rolled his eyes. “I refuse to only have one or two children.”

“Well, I don’t think you need to worry about that, because you’ve got four now.”

He grinned then. “A new little princess.”

Zelda wrinkled her nose. “Could be a boy.”

Ganondorf shrugged easily. “I doubt it.”

“Oh? You said that about Ralon, and look what happened.”

“Ralon was a fluke.” He said leaning forwards. “I’m still not sure how it was possible, but I really don’t think we’ll be having any other boys.”

Zelda frowned, not convinced. “If you say so.”

Ganondorf smiled again and stroked her belly gently. “Why are we still talking?” He asked conversationally as he stood up and swung her into his arms. “We have to celebrate.”

Zelda rolled her eyes. “This is  _exactly_  what got us into this mess!” She complained. “You ought to have more self control, or is the Demon King simply not capable of restraint?”

He snorted as he pushed the door to his bedchamber open. “I have plenty of restraint. I just choose not to use it when it comes to bedding you.”

“Well, I refuse to have another child immediately after this one.” Zelda said, frowning up at him. “Even if I have to lock you out of my rooms for good, I’m having a  _break_.”

Ganondorf’s lips twitched up. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, though…” He waggled his eyebrows and made her laugh, and then he was laughing against her skin as he rolled her into the centre of his bed, where he kept her for the rest of the afternoon.


	5. An Almost Affair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically, Zelda is reconnecting with an old friend, who wishes to have an affair with her. She remains blissfully unaware of this until he kisses her... and Ganondorf catches them.

Ganondorf scowled. He’d been frowning all evening, and most people were avoiding him. He doubted, however, that the reason why he was angry had even noticed he was. His gaze found Zelda’s form again, and his scowl only deepened.

She was currently dancing with a young prince of a neighbouring kingdom, and most people were watching the couple. They looked very good together, that much was evident, even to him. Two beautiful blonde Hylians, twined together in an intimate waltz… it was enough to make his teeth grind. To make matters worse, as he’d crossed the ballroom a few minutes ago, he’d overheard a whispered conversation that discussed the fact that, a few years ago, it had been thought that Zelda would marry this prince.

This, as one might imagine, did not please him.

Zelda smiled happily, if a bit breathlessly, up at Prince Kerrigan, who gripped her waist as they swirled to a stop, applause washing over them as they and the rest of the dancers moved from the dance floor towards the massive buffet lining the walls.

“Can I get you a drink, Zelda?” Kerrigan asked, the picture of charm and grace as he flashed her an easy smile.

“Please.” She replied. “I’m out of practice; that waltz wasn’t quite as easy as I remembered.”

Kerrigan’s brows furrowed lightly. “You don’t dance with your husband?” He asked, though she detected some undercurrent of… _something_ , beneath his light tone.

“Oh, no. The King is not one for dancing, I’m afraid, and besides, he’s much too tall.” She flashed the prince a practiced smile. “I only get an opportunity when we host a ball or something of the sort nowadays.”

“That is a great pity.” Kerrigan declared, handing her a silver punch cup, which she sipped gratefully. “You were always a wonderful dancer.”

Zelda raised a brow and grinned a little. “ _Were?_ Goodness me, I didn’t realise I’d let myself go that much.”

Kerrigan chuckled slightly. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You didn’t.” Zelda motioned towards the other side of the room, where she could see Ganondorf’s fiery mane a head and shoulders above everybody else. “Have you met my husband yet, Kerrigan?”

He shook his head. “No, I’ve not had that pleasure.”

“Well.” Zelda led the way across the crowded ballroom, enjoying the easy chatter between them. She’d always liked Kerrigan, and for a while there, she’d even entertained the thought of being his wife – not a terrible prospect for the nineteen year old Princess of Hyrule, truth be told– but fate had taken her in another direction.

She came to stop in front of Ganondorf, who looked at her rather impassively – he was irritated about something, though she didn’t know what.

“Enjoying yourself?” He asked, voice dark, and Zelda frowned slightly.

“Yes of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She turned slightly towards Kerrigan. “Gan, may I introduce Prince Kerrigan of Calatia? Kerrigan, my husband, King Ganondorf of Hyrule.”

Kerrigan bowed sharply, but Ganondorf did not; he merely frowned deeply.

“What’s the matter?” Zelda asked softly in Gerudo, so the surrounding people wouldn’t understand.

He simply shrugged. “Nothing.” His voice held an undercurrent of serious irritation, so she sighed slightly; there was no point in trying to speak with him when he was like this, so she turned to Kerrigan.

“I wonder if you’ve met Lord Vernen?” She asked, and the prince shook his head.

“I have not. He is a person of significance in your court?”

“Yes, come with me, he’s over here…”

Ganondorf narrowed his eyes as Zelda led the prince away through the crowd, and took another sip of his drink. He did not like Prince Kerrigan, not in the slightest. The ball was one of the largest they’d held yet, a massive excuse for frivolity and excess supposedly in honour of the Goddesses. These festivals had started out as such, but over the centuries they had devolved into enormous parties and balls during which the primary goal was to dress as extravagantly and richly as possible, to notice and be noticed.

He was aware of many surreptitious gazes fastened on his own form, which far from flattering as it usually did, merely irritated. Ganondorf gritted his teeth and wished for the evening to be over, feeling an immense dislike for the Hylian weaklings that flocked to the castle, yet were too scared to say a word to him. Now, to have the single person in the castle with whom he could at least hold a conversation off fawning over this miserable prince with his fancy clothes and silky golden hair was making this night far more awful than usual. Ganondorf growled slightly under his breath, and the Hylians nearest to him cast alarmed looks over their shoulders and shuffled a little further away.

Letting loose an annoyed breath, Ganondorf turned, running his gaze across the ballroom. His height afforded him an advantage in that he could easily see the faces of everybody in the ballroom; his shoulders tensed as he caught sight of one of the couples heading out the open doors that led to the gardens - Zelda was amongst them, on the arm of that infuriating prince. A sneer on his lips, he threw back the rest of his drink and set the empty glass on the tray of a passing footman before he began to move through the crowd, people parting before him like the waves of the sea. He reached the tall doors that led to the gardens and paused briefly to see if he could see where Zelda had gone; Ganondorf felt his lip twitch at the thought of his wife spending time with another man, no matter how innocent their activities. He wanted Zelda to be with him, to at least give him someone to talk to during this farce of a ball.

Zelda smiled at the moon happily, quite enjoying Kerrigan’s company. He was intelligent and charming, and though they’d been fairly close as adolescents, they hadn’t met in years, so she was ecstatic at the chance to catch up with an old friend.

“I think you have five children?” Kerrigan was saying.

“Six.” Zelda said. “My youngest is not eight months old.”

Kerrigan raised a brow and blew out his breath. “That’s quite a number in so few years.”

“Mmm, I know. I can’t say I ever expected it.”

Kerrigan looked curious. “You love your children?”

“Of course!” Zelda frowned. “Do you think I would not just because of their father?”

The prince looked embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Zelda. Of course you’d care for your own children; it was silly assumption of mine.” He paused and broke a rose from the stem. “Here.”

Zelda took the offering with a smile as a gesture of good will, and Kerrigan smiled.

“Do you remember that last time I was here?” He said, and Zelda nodded, nose still buried in the rose.

“I do.” She said, then regarded him with a touch of suspicion. The last time he’d been here, when she was nineteen, he’d kissed her, right here amongst the rose bushes. Her first kiss.

“Funny how things turned out?” He said with a half grin. “When I left, I had every intention of returning again to propose to you.”

Zelda looked down. “And I had every intention of accepting.”

“But then negotiations kept me in Calatia.” Kerrigan sounded regretful, and Zelda felt a similar twinge.

“And Hyrule was conquered.”

Kerrigan’s smile was bitter now. “By your _husband_.”

Frowning, she looked up. “It wasn’t my choice.”

“I know!” He held up placating hands. Zelda frowned harder. In public, she and Ganondorf both tended to project an atmosphere of aloofness when it came to their partner. People wouldn’t understand if it was widely known that they were in love (and Ganondorf didn’t like the idea of his reputation suffering) so they concealed it. Most of the time, it worked well, but at times… well, right now, she wanted to defend her marriage, but wasn’t exactly sure how.

“Then why exactly are you bringing this up?”

“Because I want to remember the good times.” Kerrigan smiled a rakish, charming smile. “Will you remember them with me?”

Zelda smiled. “Of course. Do you recall the time you pushed me into Lake Hylia?”

He laughed. “I was seven, cut me some slack!”

She laughed and twirled her rose. “You had to sit with the nannies for the rest of the day.”

Kerrigan took her hand in his. “I am glad you remember that, Zelda.”

She smiled to hide her unease. He was acting… strangely.

“How do you feel about the King now?” He asked.

“How do I feel?”

“You’ve been married a few years now, and he’s fathered your children – six of them. Do you hate him still, or has it mellowed?”

She stared at him for a moment, then dropped her head, wondering how to reply. “It’s mellowed a bit.” That was a safe sentence, or so she hoped. Kerrigan’s gloved fingers slid under her chin and tilted her head up.

“That isn’t what I wanted to hear.” He said, sounding angry, and then he kissed her.

Zelda stood frozen for a moment, utterly shocked, but then as Kerrigan’s arm slipped around her waist, pulling her form flush against his and his other hand tangled into her hair, she realised exactly what was happening. She brought her hands up and pushed sharply against his shoulders as he attempted to slip his tongue past her lips, and staggered backwards a few steps. Kerrigan looked a little shocked, then defensive.

“Zelda, I-”

“What on _earth_ are you doing?” She interrupted, hands on her lips.

“Zelda please, let me kiss you.” Kerrigan pleaded, stepping towards her. “Goddesses know I’ve wanted to.”

“I am _married_ -” She began furiously, but he cut her off, taking another step forwards.

“You said yourself it was not your choice.” He took another step and took her hand in his. “If I had been able to marry you, I’d have treasured you. Let me do so now, if only for a moment.”

Zelda stared, wide eyed. It was true she’d wanted to marry this man once, and some lingering affection and attraction had sparked between them, but… she’d always thought it because he was charming enough to make married life pleasant… she hadn’t thought they’d fall in love. Was he really proposing to kiss her in amongst the roses again, in full view of any one who came around the corner? Not only that… she was married, and _happily_ so.

“You must be mad.” She said, shaking her head slightly. “I know what was expected of us, but that was years ago. I’m married, and you are too! Where is your wife?”

Kerrigan shrugged. “Inside.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous! Anyone could see us, release me at-”

Kerrigan jerked her forwards again, and this time, he held on tightly, his grip rock solid on her waist and in her hair. Zelda attempted to push herself backwards, but could not, and in the second she paused to consider her next move as the prince attempted to get her to respond, she found herself being _pulled_ backwards by something… or _someone_.

She opened her eyes to see an extremely pissed off Gerudo King jerking Kerrigan off his feet so he could growl menacingly in his face.

“Just what exactly is going on here?” He snarled, and her stomach dropped down to her toes.

“Ganondorf.” Zelda began anxiously, and stopped at the look he gave her. Kerrigan was occupied with looking absolutely petrified, and she bit her lip. Ganondorf would probably kill the man without a second thought.

“Explain yourself.” He hissed in Gerudo.

“He – he kissed me.” She stammered.

“I can see that.” Ganondorf was still holding the prince aloft, and Zelda winced. He hadn’t killed Kerrigan yet, so maybe, just maybe she could persuade him to let it slide.

“I think the prince has gotten rather the wrong impression.” She said, her Gerudo pouring out of her in her hurry to make him understand. “He’s under the impression – like many people – that we don’t like each other.” She took a deep breath. “The prince and I… well, we might have married once. He’s deluded himself into thinking I would still feel for him as I did.”

“And you don’t?” Ganondorf’s words were harsh, but she could see something in his eyes he was trying very hard to hide. This hurt him, hurt him deeply, and Zelda took a deep breath, now feeling hurt herself.

“Do you doubt me?” She whispered, and then he looked angry.

“I just found my _wife_ in the arms of another man. I think that’s reason enough for doubt, don’t you?” He snarled the words, and she bristled.

“That’s not fair. _He_ kissed me, _he_ wouldn’t let me go.”

Ganondorf turned his attention back to the prince still dangling in the air.

“I ought to kill you for this.” He said, quite unmoved by what he was threatening. He ignored Zelda as she pressed herself closer against him, though he slung an arm around her waist and held her close. Jealousy burned through him; Zelda was an exceptionally beautiful woman, he knew that, and many men had coveted her hand, but she was _his_. _His_ wife and no one else’s, and he found himself wanting, _needing_ , to prove it.

“I-I’m s-sorry.” The prince managed to eke out the words, but Ganondorf only tightened his grip, watching Kerrigan turn slowly purple.

“Don’t.” Gasped Zelda, slipping back into Gerudo. “Please don’t.” Her fingers clutched into the fabric of his robes, and he glared.

Was this her pacifist nature, or was she pleading for him to leave her lover unharmed? Rage bubbled through him.

“And if I don’t?” He inquired nastily. “If I let him live, will I find you back in the bushes tomorrow?”

“No, of course not!” Cried Zelda, and then she took a deep breath and steadied herself. “This is all a misunderstanding, a big one.” Her gaze softened. “My heart belongs only to you.”

He considered for a moment. She certainly _appeared_ very sincere… Ganondorf turned to glare at the prince he still held, then made up his mind.

Pulling the miserable cretin in close, he snarled in his face. _“You stay away from my wife.”_

With that, he opened his fist and dropped the man; Kerrigan fell, hit the ground and bounced, and then she scrambled to his feet. He looked utterly bewildered for a moment, and then he bowed sharply in Zelda’s direction.

“My apologies, your Majesty. Perhaps if you’d have been clearer, this… _misunderstanding_ wouldn’t have taken place.” He spat the words stiffly, and with a final frightened glance up at Ganondorf, he turned and scurried away.

Ganondorf turned to look at Zelda, still keeping her flush against him, and she looked up at him, her expression worried and anxious.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered in Gerudo. “I didn’t mean to give him the wrong idea. I thought I was just speaking with an old friend.”

“Hmph.” He let his fingers trail over her cheek. “You might be wise, Zelda, but you are exceptionally unobservant when it comes to emotion.”

Zelda frowned up at her husband, who was grinning crookedly. “What do you mean?” She asked, brows furrowed.

“I mean-” He said, hoisting her into the air so her face was level with his. “-that you’ve spent the entirety of this evening with that man without realising what he wanted?”

Zelda’s mouth dropped open and she could feel herself blushing. _Surely not…_ “You _knew?”_

His grin flickered and a serious undercurrent of irritation shone through. “I doubt there’s a person in that ballroom who didn’t. Why do you think I’ve been in a bad mood all night?”

A laugh crept through her lips without permission, and impulsively, she leaned forwards and kissed his cheek. “Are you feeling jealous?”

Fire burned in his eyes. “…Maybe.” He growled.

Zelda’s smile faded, and she touched his jaw lightly. “I’m sorry if I inadvertently spoiled your evening.”

That made him chuckle, to her surprise. “I don’t like these balls to begin with, so its no great loss.”

The conversation trailed off then, and the air crackled with tension, tension of a good kind, the kind that spoke of how much she wanted him. They gravitated towards one another, and when their lips met Zelda wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him like she had something to prove; that like she’d said, her heart belonged to him, and only to him. She got the impression that Ganondorf kissed her to replace any lingering traces of Kerrigan on her form with his touch, and Zelda was very far from complaining.

When they parted, Ganondorf took one of her hands and brushed his lips over her gloved fingers, and Zelda smiled softly at him, before irritation at Kerrigan’s presumptuous behaviour took over.

“But the nerve of him!” She whispered. “Asking me about my children and kissing me in the next breath.”

A fierce scowl crossed over the face of the Gerudo King. “He did, did he?”

Zelda wrinkled her nose. “Actually, now I think about it, I’m pretty sure he was _probing_ , to find my true feelings about you before he made his move.”

“Hmph.” Ganondorf did not look impressed. “I should have killed him.”

“ _No_ , you should _not_.” She said firmly. “He’s the heir to the Calatian throne, and Calatia, may I remind you, is our ally. We don’t want to start a war.”

He merely rolled his eyes. “You don’t.”

Zelda frowned, but decided it was an argument that could wait for a later date. “Come on, let’s go inside. I’m sure there are people wondering where we’ve gone.”

“True.”

Ganondorf lowered her to her feet and waited a moment while Zelda checked her gown and hair, making sure she was presentable, and then he took her hand, and they walked back towards the castle, together.


	6. The Dressing Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda gives Ciery her belated birthday present. More child POV practice; written from Cerys' point of view this time :D

Up then under, no, _over_ , then back around and…

“Ugh!”

Ciery threw the ribbon as hard as she could; being so light, the failed attempt at a bow cartwheeled through the air and ended up right in front of her. She frowned at it. Why were bows so hard? Mama had shown her how to do it, and it looked easy, but when she tried, all the loops and pulling and tugging got her all muddled up, until the neat bow of her mama’s looked like papa’s hair after he went riding.

Large blue eyes slid upwards as she thought of her papa, and she propped her chin up on her hands from where she was lying on her tummy in front of the fire, watching as Papa turned the pages of his letters. Ciery sighed and fiddled with her hair for a moment.

What she wanted was something to do, but Saffie and Link were plotting in the corner, Ralon was drawing, Aela and Reeva were napping on a blanket, and Runi was hiding behind mama’s chaise longue, trying to use magic.

At that moment, the door opened to reveal her mama and a footman who was carrying something large draped in a sheet. Ciery smiled at the sight of her; mama was so pretty, everyone thought so. She thought her mama was the most beautiful lady in the entire world; her hair was pretty, and so were her eyes and her silk dresses and all the pretty crystal bottles she had on her dressing table. The dressing table was one of Ciery’s favourite places in the whole world; at nighttime, before they went to bed, mama would let her sit on her lap and brush her hair, and let her rub some scented cream into her hands. The dressing table was where mama made herself prettier than usual, and when Ciery grew up, she wanted one just like it.

Mama had told her that when she grew up, she’d be pretty just like her, which nearly made Ciery burst with joy. She had been told (by quite a few people) that out of all her siblings, she was the one who resembled her mother the most – she had fair skin, pointy ears, and her mama’s nose, or so they said. The only difference, these people remarked, was her hair and eyes. Ciery had dark golden eyes, and she knew her hair was different to her mama’s – it was the colour of copper, so mama said, not that the little girl actually knew what copper was. She supposed it was something that looked like her hair, and decided she’d ask mama what it was later, for mama was carrying a big box and looked busy. She watched as mama put the box on her dressing table while the footman put the sheet covered thing down besides it, then went and fetched another thing swathed in cloth. Mama then went over to where papa was reading his important King stuff, and talked to him for a little bit. Ciery picked up the ribbon and tried to get it right again, but pricked up her ears when she heard her name.

“Ciery!”

She looked up to find mama standing in the middle of the room, hands outstretched, a big smile on her face. Ciery grinned happily and scrambled to her feet, running across the room to meet her. Mama took her hand and started leading her over to the dressing table, and her excitement grew. Did this mean mama was going to show her what was in the box!?

“I’ve got something for you, baby.” Mama said, ruffling her hair lightly, and Ciery beamed.

“Thank you Mama.” She chirped, bouncing a little in her excitement. “What is it?”

“Wait and see.” Said mama, leading her over to her dressing table. Ciery tugged a lock of her hair excitedly as mama sat down on the stool and then held out her hands.

“Upsy-daisy.” She said, and Ciery let herself get picked up and settled on mama’s lap, facing the mirror. Sitting on mama’s lap was getting harder and harder everyday, because mama had another baby growing there – a new sister! Ciery beamed at her reflection, giggling a little as mama kissed her forehead lightly.

“What’s my little pumpkin been doing today?” She asked, and Ciery shrugged.

“I’ve been trying to do bows, Mama, but it’s hard.” She complained. “You make it look easy.”

Mama laughed a little as she took off her diadem and set it carefully on its velvet stand, and Ciery picked up her mama’s hairbrush reverently. She truly loved this hairbrush; it was so beautiful.

“Pretty.” She said, entranced, forgetting how to make a proper sentence as she traced a finger along the elaborate designs etched into the silver back.

“I dare say you’ll get the hang of bows soon, darling.” Mama said as she continued their conversation, undoing the bow in her own hair. “Are you ready for your present?”

Ciery nodded excitedly and clapped her hands. “Yes Mama!” She chirped.

Mama pulled the box closer. “Here, pumpkin.”  
Ciery carefully lifted the lid, which mama took and put on the floor while she peered in; she could see a leather case embossed with four letters; C.Y.H.D.

“C…Y…H…D?” She read slowly. “That’s my name! My in-it-als! Isn’t it, Mama?”

“It sure is.” Said Mama, lifting the case out of the box and dropping that on the floor. “Want to open it yourself?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Ciery carefully unbuckled the straps, and then Mama helped her open the case and pull out what was inside; a beautiful carved wooden box inlaid with that funny stuff called _tortoiseshell_ , and pretty brass clasps.

She gasped and turned around to look at Mama. “It’s a _dressing case!”_ She said breathlessly. “Is it really for me?”

Mama laughed kissed her cheek. “Of course, silly duck. When I was six, my Mamma gave me a similar case.” She held up her silver hairbrush. “I still use it today.” Ciery bit her lip; mama had that sad look in her eye she got whenever she talked about her mother. She knew that her grandmother was not alive anymore, but she didn’t know she’d given mama her own dressing case too.  
“I didn’t know that!” She exclaimed, touching the hairbrush softly.

“Saffie got a case when she turned six, and now, so do you.” Mama smiled and pushed some of her hair back. “Yours is very special, because I had it made to look like my mother’s, seeing as you were named after her. It was supposed to be here in time for your birthday, but the silversmith accidentally set his workshop on fire, and he wasn’t able to finish it until now. So, this is a belated birthday present, baby.”

“What’s ‘belated’ mean?” Asked Ciery, eyes wide. This was her present? But mama had given her a new silk dress for her birthday! She was getting _another_ present? Today was turning out be a good day.

Mama chuckled slightly. “It means ‘late’. But, you have it now. Shall we open it up and have a look?”

Ciery nodded excitedly and turned back around. Mama covered her hands with her own and showed her how to open the hidden clasps, and then the case fell open to reveal such treasures she could hardly believe her own eyes. The case was lined with dark blue velvet, and in the lid there was tucked a pretty silver mirror and a few things she wasn’t quite sure of what they were. In the main compartment, there was a row of gleaming crystal bottles with silver lids, a hairbrush of her very own, an ivory comb, a soap dish, perfume bottles, a jar like the one mama used for her hand cream, and a few small carved silver boxes for holding whatever she liked.

Ciery touched her new hairbrush reverently, and then mama slid her finger to a hidden catch, and the little girl watched rapturously as a secret draw slid out, filled to the brim with all sorts of exciting things. There was small pair of scissors, those funny things for making your fingernails pretty, some spoons and spatulas for applying creams and makeup, thimbles, corkscrews shoehorns and nail files and so many pretty things, all carved in gleaming silver! It was amazing.

“All for me?” She asked breathlessly, turning around in her mama’s lap and flinging her arms around her neck, careful not to squash mama’s baby. Mama laughed and hugged her tightly.

“All for you, my darling one.” She whispered into her ear. “We can’t have my little princess doing her hair with a regular hairbrush, can we?”

Ciery shook her head, then leaned back, stars in her eyes. “Can you brush my hair now, Mama? With my new brush?”

“Of course!” Mama turned her back around and removed the cream ribbon from her hair and carefully lifted the brush from its spot amongst the crushed velvet.

Ciery held her breath then released it as the brush began to stroke through her long hair, and she watched happily in the mirror as her mama worked in calm motions until her hair was perfectly smooth, and then began to braid it, ready for bed. Ciery smiled happily, watching her mama’s face as she worked; mama would smile at her when they caught one another’s eye. She was now on the pinnacle of bliss; she didn’t think she could get any happier.

Her mama had given her a dressing case all of her very own! All pretty silver and crystal – Ciery lost herself in a small daydream of which of her possessions she could tuck inside the case. Abruptly, she had a thought.   
“Mama!” She said, sitting up as her mama put the finishing touches on her braid for bed, the silver brush already tucked away in its velvet lining. “Where will I keep my case?”

“Ah.” Said mama, smiling. “You have two choices.” She motioned at the covered thing the footman had brought in. “Here, pull the cover off.”  
Ciery climbed down from her mama’s lap, and then papa came over to watch.

“What’s this?” He asked, and Ciery bounced up excitedly and grabbed his hand.

“Look what Mama gave me, Papa!” She chirped. “It’s a dressing case of my very own!”

Papa stroked his beard and grinned. “Its very nice. What’s under the sheet?”

“I don’t know yet.” Carefully, Ciery peeled the sheet back, and gasped when she saw what it was.

It was a dressing table, like mama’s, though a little different, and much smaller. The perfect size for her! Ciery spun around, her eyes as wide as saucers.

“Is this for me too?” She asked, and mama nodded.   
“Yes. I thought you might like to sit with me in the evenings and we can do our hair together.” Mama smiled. “Would you like that?”  
Ciery’s cheeks hurt, she was smiling so widely. “Yes Mama!” She yelped, then jumped forwards to hug her, trying to say thank you without her words. Papa pulled the cover off the smaller thing, revealing a small stool to sit on.

“When did you get this?” He asked mama, and she smiled. “I wrote to the silversmith and told him what I wanted, and then I spoke to the steward, and he put me in touch with the best warehouses. I went to choose the table last week.”

Ciery pulled back from the hug and stared with wide eyes; should she look at her dressing case, or look through all the drawers on her dressing table first?  
Mama must have noticed her dilemma, because she picked up the case and set it on the smaller table.

“Here, pumpkin. Have some time before bed and you can put all your new bottles wherever you like. Just be careful; you don’t want to break them.”

Mama kissed her cheek, and then she and papa got up and went over towards where Aela and Runi were sleeping, leaving Ciery staring, wide eyed, at all her new treasures.

 

***

 

“Enough is enough, Zelda.” Groaned Ganondorf, and she rolled her eyes. They’d both been in bed for over an hour, but Ciery was still transfixed by her dressing table, sitting there carefully arranging and rearranging the bottles. Zelda had told her it was time for bed a few times already, but the six year old was determined to get everything just perfect, and now that Ganondorf had started complaining, she’d never get any peace.

“ _Zeldaaaa_.” He said, rolling over and dropping his head in her lap as she sat against the headboard, reading. Zelda huffed and set the book down.

“Really, Gan? You’d think I had six children instead of five.” She said crossly, then as an afterthought, she laid a hand over his where he was caressing her six-month pregnant belly. “Well, seven children.” She amended, then raised a brow. “You don’t want to go to sleep.” She whispered. “You just want her out of the room.”

Ganondorf nodded. “Guilty. Actually, I’m pretty sure Cissy’s so immersed in those bottles I could bed you thrice over without her noticing.”

Zelda felt her cheeks warm, and she looked away from Ganondorf’s knowing smirk.

“Fine, if its bugging you that much, I’ll put her to bed now.”  
“Good.” Looking cheered, Ganondorf sank back down into his pillows. “Goodnight, Cissy.”

“Night Papa.” The little girl called back, though she didn’t look up from her bottles.

Zelda slipped out of bed, a hand on her swollen belly, then crossed to the dressing table and laid a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Ciery?” She said softly, and when the little girl looked up, she stroked a hand down her long coppery braid. “Come on, pumpkin. It’s bedtime.”

Ciery pouted, and Zelda smiled. “It’ll still be here in the morning, and you can spend all day with your bottles if you wish. You just need to go to sleep now or you’ll be too tired in the morning to even look at them.”

Ciery wrinkled her nose, but saw the sense in the plan and jumped off her stool, slipping her hand into Zelda’s. Smiling at her daughter, she led her towards the doorway. “Come on, pumpkin.” She said, but then Ciery pulled away.

“Wait Mama!” She chirped, and then dashed over to climb on the bed and hug her papa goodnight. Ganondorf chuckled and hugged his daughter, then set her on her feet.

“Go to sleep now, rabbit.” He said, and Ciery ran back over to take Zelda’s hand again.

“This is the best present ever, Mama.” Said the little girl dreamily, and Zelda smiled as she led her towards the nursery; one of her children might just turn out to be a proper princess after all.


	7. In Memoriam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for some drama! The conflict is, of course, Zelda’s mother - or rather, the fact that she was killed when Ganondorf invaded. Zelda has neither forgotten nor forgiven, though they both sort of ignore it, and now, three years later, it kind of boils over.

Ganondorf slipped beneath the covers, grinning as Zelda set her book on the bedside table and immediately moved into his arms. She laid her head on his shoulder, one hand resting on his chest, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her close. His other hand drifted down to caress her belly; she was eight months pregnant now, and he was feeling quite impatient.

He hadn’t seen her much that day, having been quite busy with Nabooru; she was back at the castle negotiating the renewal of the trade agreements between Holodrum and the Gerudo Valley. He wasn’t sure what Zelda had been doing, so he asked her.

“I met with Mayor Norram this morning.” Was her reply. “We were just fixing up the last arrangements for the flower show.”

_Ugh_. Ganondorf rolled his eyes. “Is it really necessary to hold it in the castle grounds?”

“Yes.” Said Zelda, a smile evident in her voice. “The show is always held in the castle gardens. Not only does it give our gardeners a chance to show off, its tradition.”

“Tradition can get buggered.” He growled, and got swatted on the chin for his efforts.

“Don’t be silly. It’s only a flower show; don’t make things more difficult than they have to be.”

Zelda looked down then, a slightly nervous expression on her face.  _But that’s ridiculous,_ he thought.  _Why would she be nervous about some silly flowers?_

“Don’t worry.” He said gruffly. “I’m not going to ruin the show.”

She smiled slightly. “Will you come?”

Ganondorf had a sudden vision of himself prancing about the gardens in a flower crown. It instantly made him irritable. “We’ll see.” Was his only reply.

Zelda’s slightly nervous look was back. “Can I… ask you something?” She began, then frowned and fiddled with a lock of her hair. “That is, I’ve been meaning to speak to you about something recently.”

That sounded ominous. “What?” He asked.

She refused to meet his gaze. “Well… in two months, it will be the three year… I don’t like saying anniversary, because that implies happy thoughts, and this isn’t particularly joyful.”

Ganondorf felt confused.  _Anniversary? Of what?_  It wasn’t the anniversary of their marriage, that was a little while away yet, and it wasn’t any of their children’s birthdays… what was she taking about? “What do you mean, Zelda? What’s the anniversary of?” He asked, and then wished he hadn’t.

“My mother’s death.” Zelda met his gaze then, looking sad and pensive.

“…Oh.”

“I know you don’t really care to think about Mamma, but… I wanted to do something for her. I’m going to commission a memorial stone and have it installed in her rose garden. It’ll give me somewhere to sit and remember her by, especially considering her tomb is so far away.”

The words were out of his mouth before he realised. “No, you’re not.”

It took her moment to register his words, but Zelda stiffened and sat up slightly. “…What do you mean, no?” She asked warily.

“Ganondorf sat up as well. “I meant what I said. A memorial to that woman in my castle? I think not.”

Zelda straightened, her eyes spitting fire. “ _Your_  castle?” She said, slowly and precisely. “So. You’re not going to let me do it.”

“I certainly will not.” He said firmly, then lay back down again. 

Zelda glared at him, though he could see the dangerous glassiness of her eyes. Ganondorf frowned slightly. What a stupid reason to have an argument.

“May I ask  _why?”_  She asked, her voice brittle.

He rolled his eyes and avoided the question. “You already named Cissy after her. Isn’t that memorialising her enough?”

Zelda looked a little incredulous over her anger. “I don’t think so, no. Wouldn’t  _you_  wish to memorialise  _your_  mother?”

Ganondorf scowled. “As it happens, no. The Gerudo don’t feel the need to whack bloody great lumps of stone everywhere to remember those who’ve passed on.  _We_  don’t need reminding.”

She bristled, lightening practically crackling down her hair. “I  _know_  you do things differently.” She snapped, voice icy. “That’s why I didn’t think you’d mind if I just did a small thing, for  _my mother_ , whom-” Zelda’s voice wobbled alarmingly here. “-I miss terribly.”

She raised her gaze to the ceiling, blinking hard, and before he could formulate a response, she was gone from the bed and almost running in her haste to reach the door. Even so, her speed didn’t disguise the firelight glinting off the tears on her cheeks.

_Well, shit._  Ganondorf frowned intently, then swore and launched a pillow across the room. It didn’t make him feel better, but it gave him something to do. So Zelda was going to play hurt, was she? Well, she’d just have to get over it. He wasn’t going to have anything of the sort in his castle grounds. A memorial to a Hylian Queen? A  _former_  Hylian Queen, the one who was killed by his own men? The implications! Hylian’s liked to gossip, he knew that much, and just what would they say about  _him_  if they heard he was letting Zelda do this?  _No_. She would do nothing of the sort. 

Grumbling, he rolled over and tried to sleep.

In the next room, Zelda was doing anything but sleeping. She paced up and down, white faced, tight knuckled. She was perfectly furious and very upset – how dare he try to stop her remembering her own mother! How  _dare_  he! To think she’d been planning it, and then the only reason she’d even brought it up was so that  _Ganondorf_  would have a chance to bury the hatchet, seeing as  _he’d killed her_. Tears welled, and she dashed them angrily from her cheeks. Well. He’d not stop her, Mr High and Mighty King who thought he could do what he liked. He’d not stop  _this_.

She crossed through into her study, and sat down to compose a letter, the contents of which would commission a memorial stone; she’d have it sent off to the stonemasons in the morning. Now that Zelda knew Ganondorf explicitly refused to  _let_  her, she was tempted to have an enormous stone commissioned, something eye catching and attention grabbing, something that would make a statement, rather than the simple stone plaque she’d been thinking of. She’d been going to have this plaque attached to the base of a particular marble statue that had been her mothers favourite; but now she wondered if she might go the whole hog and commission an entirely new statue altogether.  _Perhaps one of Mamma?_ She wondered.  _The most expensive marble money can buy,_  t _wice the size of life and polished to perfection._  That ought to put a bee in Ganondorf’s bonnet.

In the end, however, she decided on the simple plaque. Her mother had been an elegant woman, who chose to show her elegance through simplicity of jewels and dress; she’d never been one to be ostentatious. Zelda had no wish to tarnish her mothers memory by making her out to be something she wasn’t. Having signed and sealed the commission, she stood, and made her way to the window. She still felt quite upset at the injustice of it all – and what had he meant, isn’t it enough to have named Ciery after her? It was most curious.

Feeling quite unable to sleep, Zelda decided to go for a walk, and fetched a shawl and some shoes, then slipped silently through the circular chamber and out the door, completely unaware of the Gerudo man standing, arms folded, in the shadows of a bookcase, watching her.

She wandered down to the gardens, heading consciously yet unconsciously to the rose gardens her mother had so favoured, and once she was there, she sank down on a stone seat, watching the moonlight play over the vibrant blooms, and thought. Zelda didn’t bring up her mother often, and the Goddesses knew Ganondorf didn’t, for it only seemed to create conflict. And why wouldn’t it? He’d killed her, maybe not personally, but he took responsibility, and  _gladly_  so. Her lip curled at the thought. Their marriage was, for the most part, reasonably happy, and certainly content, but her mother seemed to hang like a shadow in the background, occasionally looming over their heads.

The children didn’t know – that is, they were too young, but they would be told their grandmother was no longer alive, the same as their grandfather, just as they wouldn’t know exactly how their parents marriage had come about. That being said, reflected Zelda, the twins were only two, and Ciery just one.  _Ciery_. She had taken the opportunity to name her second daughter and third child in tribute of her mother, and while she had known Ganondorf hadn’t been particularly pleased, she thought he’d accepted it.  _Apparently not._  Well, he can like it or lump it, she thought with a bitter laugh.  Ciery’s name was Ciery’s name, and he couldn’t change it, just as he couldn’t change her own mother.

“Oh, Mamma.” Zelda sighed, turning her gaze to the moon, almost full as it was. “If you were here, what would you tell me?”

Of course, she already knew the answer to that one –  _resolve all conflict._  Queen Ciery had always been a very great believer in marital harmony, and though Zelda knew her parents had cared for each other deeply, she also knew that the marriage had been arranged, and her mother had held no illusions about marriage.

_There is no such thing as a broken marriage amongst our class,_  Queen Ciery had told her once.  _Even if both parties despise the other, you must remember the look of things. Reputation is more important than feelings, and that will be doubly important when you are Queen._

“I doubt even you’d ever have foreseen this, Mamma.” Zelda said aloud. “For its quite the opposite. If people knew we didn’t hate one another,  _then_  there’d be gossip, and no mistake!”

“Foreseen what?”

Zelda jumped and lurched to her feet, a hand on her heart, then relaxed when she saw who it was.

“Oh, Nabooru. You startled me.”

The Gerudo warrior eased out of the shadows, coming to stand before her.   
“What are you doing out here Zelda?” She asked, frank curiosity in her tone.

“I might ask the same of you.” Zelda hedged, avoiding the question.

Nabooru grinned, her teeth bright in the darkness. “I like exploring the castle late at night. Gives me a chance to wander around without being sneered at.”

“Oh.” A tinge of shame licked at her. “I am sorry. I’m afraid it will take a long time for all our prejudice to air out.”

Thankfully, Nabooru laughed. “Don’t worry about it, I’m used to it. Anyway, I get the sense they judge me more on my clothing than for who I am.”  
Zelda chuckled then. “You might actually be right.”

Nabooru turned, a light of speculation in her eyes. “So what are you doing down here? Its very late, and I didn’t think you thought it proper to leave your rooms in your nightclothes.”

Zelda smiled a little self-consciously and drew her shawl tighter about her shoulders. “Well, I wouldn’t, normally. But tonight is a special occasion.” She glanced to the moon again.

“Why?”

“Ganondorf.” Zelda frowned at a nearby bush. “We’ve had a disagreement, and I didn’t feel much like sleeping.”

“Oh dear.” Nabooru plucked a rose. “What about? Do I have to go and roast him for you?”

Zelda laughed. “I’d say yes, if I thought it would do any good, but I doubt it will.”

“You be surprised.” The Gerudo woman sat down on the bench and patted the space beside her. “Sit, tell me.”

Sitting with a sigh, Zelda launched into her tale. “Well, in two months, it will be three years exactly since Ganondorf invaded – and since my mother was killed.”

Nabooru sucked in a breath. “Oh.”

“Yes, well, I… haven’t done much on the other two anniversaries of her death, but I’d like to do something this time. So, I thought I’d have a plaque made, in memorial, you know? I was going to put it in Mamma’s rose garden.”

“Annndd… why is there a problem?”

Zelda sighed again. “Gan says he won’t let me.”

There was a small silence as Nabooru processed this. “He won’t let you.” She said finally, awe and indignation in her tone. “He won’t  _let_  you. Does he not realise this really does have very  _little_  to do with him?”

“Exactly!” Cried Zelda, her voice breaking slightly. “I’d have preferred to leave him out of it entirely, really, considering how Mamma was killed, but I thought… it might be an opportunity to make peace with it. For both of us.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I mean, why would he oppose it? What harm would a small plaque in the gardens do him? What did Mamma ever do to him?” 

That was her breaking point, it seemed, because her tears overcame her without much warning at all, and Nabooru pulled her into a hug, murmuring soothing things in her native tongue. As Zelda cried, she was unaware of her husband appearing from behind a bush, and equally unaware of Nabooru’s shake of the head sending him away again.

 

* * *

  

Ganondorf was in a very bad mood. He’d seen Zelda at breakfast, and she’d barely looked at him, let alone spoken to him. Now, he was trying to get some paperwork done, but kept getting distracted by the mental image of Nabooru holding Zelda as she wept. Try as he might, he didn’t like being the reason she’d been crying, but… he refused to have some gaudy memorial to the former Queen here, and that was the end of it.

It was fitting, then, that the door opened, and Nabooru came in. Ganondorf rolled his eyes mentally; she was clearly on the warpath.

“Good morning, Gan.” She said cheerfully enough, sinking down into a chair without having been invited.

“If you say so.” He said sourly, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“Oooh.” She sounded delighted. “I knew you’d be grumpy.”

Ganondorf gritted his teeth. Nabooru was the only one who dared speak to him in this fashion. He wasn’t sure what made it worse; that he couldn’t get her to stop, or that she simply didn’t care that it annoyed him. “What do you want?” He snapped. “I’m busy.”

“Not busy enough for this.” Nabs said seriously, scooting her chair closer. “I want to know your side of the story.”

“What story?” He growled irritably.

She only rolled her eyes; an act that would be immensely disrespectful if done by any other. 

“You know what. You saw Zelda crying last night, and I know for a fact that you  _know_  why. She told me.”

“Then what are you doing here?” Ganondorf grumbled, dragging his hand through his hair. This was going to be a very long morning, he could see that clear as day.

Nabs leaned forwards. “Tell me your reasoning. Zelda thinks you’re being very unreasonable, and I’m not sure I don’t agree with her.”

He raised a brow. “Go talk to  _her_  then. Gang up on me.” He pulled a piece of paper closer and tried to ignore his interfering bloody second.

“I have talked to her. Why d’you think I’m here?”

Ganondorf threw down his pen in disgust. “Get on with it then.”

“Thanks.” Nabooru frowned. “She says you said you won’t let her put up a stone to commemorate her mother’s memory.”

“I won’t.” He confirmed, eyeing his liquor stand from across the room and wondering how much of it he’d need to drink by the time this conversation was over.

“Why?”

Ganondorf scowled at the honest question, but decided to reply. “How would it look…” He said slowly. “If it got out that I’d allowed her to put up a memorial for the Queen when it was my men that killed her? Of course, it was her own fault she was killed, bloody fool woman. She didn’t listen.”

Nabooru sighed. “I see. You don’t like talk.” 

“I don’t. The Hylians could see this as some sort of… weakness, on my part, and that I will not allow.”

Ganondorf frowned, for it was very plain Nabooru was having difficulty in refraining from rolling her eyes. “What? Do you disagree?”

“Well…” She said carefully. “It depends. Do you really think that they’d talk about  _you_  if Zelda kept it quiet, with no fanfare? Do you realise all she wants is a small stone in her mother’s favourite garden that she can sit by sometimes, to remember her? Surely even you don’t begrudge Zelda her own mother’s memory.”

Ganondorf regarded her suspiciously for a long moment. “…Sometimes I wonder just whose side you’re on.”

“I’m on the side of common sense.” She said firmly. “This is a stupid reason for a fight, Gan. I know you like her.”

He huffed and looked away. How dare she say that to his face?

Nabs persisted. “And I know she likes you too.  _Va Éshi Pi,_  she’s going to have your forth child shortly! Don’t let this fester and ruin a good thing.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why, exactly?”

Nabs sighed irritably. “I don’t see why you’re being so ridiculous over this. Why would it be so bad to have a small plaque in the rose gardens? What harm would it bring?”

Ganondorf went to answer, but she cut him off. 

“Answer me this, Gan; if you are so opposed to the idea of memorialising Zelda’s mother, why did you name your own daughter after her?”

This was the last straw.  _“Because I didn’t!”_  He roared, springing to his feet. 

Nabooru looked a little shocked, then confused.

“What do you mean?” She asked cautiously, and he swore, dragged a hand through his hair, then crossed to the liquor stand, pouring himself a generous measure and downing half of it before he replied.

“I wasn’t here when Zelda had Cissy, you know that. I was in Holodrum, and of course the bloody letter got lost, didn’t it? Because of the time it took to get a letter there, I didn’t get back until she was already nearly three weeks old. By that time, Zelda had already named her, had it announced and written to every bloody royal acquaintance of hers under the sun.” Ganondorf scowled and turned to face his second. “I couldn’t just up and rename the child, as Zelda so very smugly informed me on my return.” He scowled, then scoffed. “She did let me choose two Gerudo middle names as a consolation prize, and as it is, she’s bloody lucky I call the child Cissy, and not by her middle name instead.” Ganondorf swallowed his drink, feeling bitter. “But I suppose that would confuse her.”

“I see.” Said Nabooru carefully. “Well. That wasn’t very nice, and it certainly wasn’t honest of Zelda, I’ll give you that, but… you know she wanted this to be a chance to bury the whole thing?”

Ganondorf looked up slowly. “I didn’t know that. What did she say?”

“She said she wanted to put her mother’s death  _and_  the reason for it, behind her. She’d hoped you’d come down to the stone with her on the day, and talk about it. That way, you could both bury the hatchet, in her words.”

“Hmm.” Ganondorf frowned into his beard. That… didn’t sound half bad. He looked up as Nabs continued.

“I think you’d best make your decision fast. Last night, she was mumbling about how if you were going to be unreasonable, she would too.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What’s she planning?”

“I don’t know.” Nabooru stood up. “Speak to her soon, Gan. And please – consider it. This is her mother we’re talking about. I know you didn’t like her, but Zelda isn’t going to be able to just get over it.”

With that, his second was gone, and Ganondorf scowled into his drink. She’d certainly given him quite a bit to think about.

 

* * *

 

Zelda smiled absently at nothing as she nursed Ciery (which was no mean feat when so pregnant), with Ralon sitting at her feet looking at a picture book. Saffie was across the room asking the nurse for a cookie, and she leaned down to ruffle her son’s hair.

“What’s happening now, baby?” She asked, and Ralon pointed at a picture of a flower bed. “Flowers.” He said, dropping the book and standing up, chubby fingers taking hold of her skirts as he tried to climb up.

“They’re very pretty.” She replied, helping the little boy up onto the seat besides her. Ralon reached out to touch Ciery’s hand, and he grinned.

“Cissy’s hungry.” He said. “She cried before.”

“I know.” Said Zelda, kissing his forehead. “But I’m here now.”

Ralon beamed and snuggled closer, closing his eyes with a little sigh. The nurse noticed and called out softly from across the room.

“It’s nearly time for their naps, your Majesty. The little prince is no doubt tired; he and the princess played tag for quite a while earlier.”

“Put Saffie to bed if she wants to go.” Zelda replied. “I’ll bring Ralon over when I bring Ciery.”

“Very good, your Majesty.”

“Go to sleep, baby.” She whispered, stroking his hair lightly. Ralon yawned lightly and pressed himself closer.

“Nighty night, Mama.” He mumbled.

Saffie realised cuddles were happening, and broke away from the nurse, scampering across the room.

“Mama!” She cried, little hands outstretched. “Up!”

“Upsy-daisy.” Zelda said with a smile, helping the little girl onto her opposite side. “You go.” She said warmly to the nurse. “I’m sure you’ve things to do. I’ll sit with them for a while, and ring when I’m ready to leave.”

The nurse smiled indulgently at her charges. “Of course, your Majesty.” The woman curtsied and left the room, and Zelda smiled after her until Ciery clamped down hard around her nipple, making her wince until the baby loosened her grip.

“No one ever told me breastfeeding would be so painful.” She mumbled to herself, adjusting the shawl Ciery was wrapped in.  
“I don’t suppose they did.”

Zelda gasped and looked up to find Ganondorf standing before her. She regarded him warily as he seized his chair and brought it over to sit in front of her. Ralon was out for the count, but Saffie yawned hugely and reached out to her father.

  
“Papa…” She mumbled sleepily.

“Sleep now, Saff.” He said, touching her hand.

Feeling effectively cornered, Zelda frowned at her husband. She hoped he wasn’t here for idle conversation, for he’d get none, but… this would be an unpleasant place to have it out. She didn’t want to upset the children.

She simply watched him as Saffie dropped off, making it very clear she wasn’t going to start the conversation. Ganondorf seemed to realise it, because he met her gaze and began.

“Nabooru came to see me before.”

“Oh?” Zelda replied distantly, playing with Ciery’s soft coppery curls.

“Yes. She seems to think I am behaving quite unfairly towards you.”

Zelda met his gaze at last. “I’m glad she thinks so.” She said at length.

  
“She was very insistent, and… she gave me a few things to think about.” 

Zelda frowned delicately. “What like?”

“She explained your reasoning’s. Well, the ones I didn’t guess.” He reached out and touched her knee, and Zelda shifted away from him. “Zelda, why didn’t you say you only wanted something small?”

She quirked a brow at him. “…Was that supposed to make a difference?”

“Yes. If you’d insisted on fanfare and a raising some kind of brouhaha about it, well, I couldn’t allow that.”

“Why?” 

When Ganondorf dithered, she frowned. “If you’re going to be unjust you might at least tell me your reasons.”

“I don’t expect you to understand.” He said instead, making her frown harder. “Lets just say I have my reasons, and if you did understand, you’d think them fair.”

“Would I?” Zelda asked sweetly. “Do you really think so?”

Ganondorf looked a little discomforted, and she hid a slight smile; whatever had Nabooru said to him? He almost seemed as if he were on the verge of an apology.

“…Maybe.” He said finally. “But that’s not what I’m here to discuss.”

“Indeed.”

Ganondorf rolled his eyes. “Must you be so cold?”

Zelda raised an incredulous brow. “As the reason my mother is dead, I’d have thought you’d be eager of a chance to bury this. Goddesses know I think of it often, and I judge you for it.”

Whatever he’d been going to say fell out of his head as he stared.  _“What?”_  He croaked.

“I mean it. I’ve been happy with you, quite wonderfully happy, but my mother is never really far from my mind. I often feel I’ve  _betrayed_  her, by coming to care for the man who caused her death.” Zelda’s words were icy, and she leaned forwards slightly. “You’ve never said anything about her. Three years we’ve been married, and you’ve never apologised, you’ve never even said her name. I wouldn’t know the day she died if I hadn’t asked the servants. Imagine that! I found out the day of her death through a  _footman_.”

Ganondorf looked slightly more discomforted.  _Good._

“I realise… it would have been hard.” He said finally.

“Hah!” Zelda snorted and leaned back in her seat, just as Ciery decided she’d finished feeding. She took a few moments to both ignore Ganondorf to clean up the child, reorganising her gown and cuddling her daughter as she drifted off to sleep before she turned back to her husband.

“I know you don’t care about anything but yourself.” She said harshly. “So don’t. Ignore it. It’s got nothing to do with you.”

“I said you can’t-”

“Well it’s a little too late for  _that_.” She interrupted. “I’ve already commissioned it. I hope you don’t think I was asking for your  _permission_.”

Ganondorf scowled. “You ordered it without even mentioning it to me?”

Zelda sighed and rolled her eyes. “Look. It’s a small stone plaque, not even the width of a window. It will rest at the base of Mamma’s favourite statue in  _her_  rose garden. When it arrives, I’ll have it installed, and that will be it. I  _never_  planned a ‘brouhaha’, as you so eloquently put it. You have got nothing to do with it.”

“I’ve got everything to do with it.” He snapped, looking angry. “This is my castle now, my grounds, and I have every right to-”

Zelda interrupted to play her trump card. “Not Mamma’s garden, you don’t.”

At his confused look, she elaborated. “When Papa and Mamma were married, he gifted her the rose garden. It no longer forms a part of the estate; it was her sole property. As she is dead, the garden is passed to me. I was contacted by a solicitor some months after things… settled down.”

Ganondorf looked angry now. “And you didn’t tell me this because…?”

“Because I didn’t deem it necessary. It’s only a rose garden. Barely thirty square metre’s of space.”

Now he looked triumphant, some of his old unpleasantness bleeding through as he leered at her. “As my wife, what’s yours is mine, Zelda. Under your own law, too.”

She glared at him, then composed her features. “You may do what you like, of course. As King you’ve every right to do so. But let me tell you now; if you take that garden from me, just to show me up, if you force me to return Mamma’s memorial, I shall  _never_  speak to you again, I promise you that. Do you really want things to go back to the way they were, Gan? Do you want me to hate you? To never grace your bed again? Because if that’s what you want, you’re doing a marvellous job of it.”

Surprisingly, his anger faded to a look of contemplation. Finally, he spoke, leaning back as to appraise her all the better. “No, I don’t.”

Zelda’s brow furrowed slightly as he went on.

“You are my wife, the mother of my children, and I care for you very deeply.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “I care for you as well. I don’t want to hate you again. Its just… you’re forcing me to.”

Ganondorf’s eyes gleamed. “Which part of the grounds belongs to you, exactly?”

Once she had described where her mother’s garden lay, he nodded slightly, looking a trifle confused. “That’s… very far out of the way. Why so hidden a spot? I’d have thought your father would have given her a more prominent garden.”  
Zelda shrugged. “It was Mamma’s favourite. Despite being Queen, she was always quiet and refined; she enjoyed getting out of the public eye for while. It’s… peaceful, in her garden. That’s why I want to put the stone there. Not many visitors to the castle venture to that corner; its quiet, and I can sit in peace with her.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “That… changes things, I must admit. My first thought was that you were planning something big, something that everyone in the Kingdom would know about in five seconds flat.”  
Zelda shook her head. “I wouldn’t want that, and neither would Mamma. How can I sit and remember her if the place is overflowing with people?”

Ganondorf reached out then and took her hand, looking entirely unsure if she would let him. For a moment, she considered pulling away, but she didn’t. Instead, Zelda squeezed his hand softly, earning herself a smile. It took a moment, but she smiled back.

“I... apologise.” He whispered, then returned to normal volume, and she grinned. It was so hard for him to apologise, it was almost funny. “I suppose… I can’t object too much.” Seeing her smile, it was obvious he was trying to minimise the concession. “I mean, so long as you don’t make  _too_  big a commotion out of it.”

“Well, I never asked for your permission, don’t forget  _that_.” She said snippily. “You have been unfair, and quite frankly  _cruel_  to me, but if you acknowledge it, and promise not to make such a fuss over things in the future, I suppose I can forgive you.”

Ganondorf rolled his eyes, then remembered himself and looked as though he’d regretted doing that. Zelda arched a brow at him.

“Fine.” He said gruffly. “I suppose I was a bit hasty, and that made me… unfair. We’re going to have our forth child shortly, and I don’t want to fight. Do you forgive me?”

She watched him for a moment, and when she was satisfied she could see sincerity in his face, Zelda nodded slightly. “Alright. But… only if you come down to see the stone with me one day. And I wouldn’t mind an apology for  _killing my mother_  either.”

Ganondorf didn’t look very impressed. “She wasn’t  _supposed_  to die, remember that. I was going to use her for negotiation purposes. It was an accident. She refused to surrender, and… my men can sometimes get a little overexcited. ”

“Hmm.” Zelda sighed. “Well, that is better than your having ordered her execution. I’d never be able to forgive that, but as it stands, even if I can’t forgive, I can put it behind me.”

The Gerudo King looked hopeful. “Yes?”

“Yes.” Zelda smiled. “There’s no point clinging onto the past. What’s done is done, and I don’t really care to remember those months anyway. They weren’t very nice.”

“No.” Ganondorf was agreeing, but he looked as though he didn’t really mind.

Ciery yawned then, drawing both their attention. 

“May I ask you something?” Zelda asked finally. When he nodded, she continued. “When… we argued, why did you bring up Ciery’s name? I ask because Nabooru mentioned something about it.”

Ganondorf leaned back, a shadow covering his eyes. “Did she now.”

“Yes. She said… something about how you thought it unfair of me to name Ciery after my mother when you weren’t there. Did you really…?”

Ganondorf didn’t reply for a long moment. “I did.” He said finally, and her heart sank.

“I wanted something to remember Mamma by. At the time, I let myself get distracted, or perhaps I purposefully overlooked how you’d feel about it. I’m sorry.”

He frowned slightly. “You apologise quite readily.”

“Of course.” Zelda smiled. “In the words of Mamma, conflict is useless.”

Ganondorf scoffed. “I’m not sure I’d agree with that.”

“Perhaps. But she meant it in regard to marriage. She was always a great believer in marital harmony, you see. She thought it the worst thing in the world to display discordance.”

“I see. Is this why you are always so eager to smooth over arguments that we have, unless you feel I’m in the wrong?”

“Yes and no. I don’t want to argue with you; you’re not at all pleasant to speak with then.”

Ganondorf rolled his eyes, then brought them back to the subject at hand. “I was quite angry that you named Cissy without me. First, I was angry that you didn’t wait, and then, I was angry when I found out just who you’d named her after.”

“We did have an agreement though.” Zelda offered. “Remember? One Gerudo name, then Hylian, then Gerudo, and so on.”

“That’s true.” Ganondorf’s brows drew together. “I’d just have liked to have some input, that’s all.” His mouth hitched up into a slow grin then. “After all, Hylian’s like to gossip. I know there were quite a few mouths running about why I’d allowed it. Had I softened? Why did the Demon King name his daughter after his forced wife’s mother? I disliked  _that_  more than anything.”

Zelda squeezed his fingers again with a grin. “Why didn’t you tell me you objected that much?”

He rolled his eyes again. “You’d just given birth to my third child, foolish woman. I wasn’t about to upset you. It doesn’t matter now, not really. She’s nearly a year old, and talk has long since passed.”

Zelda smiled. He really did care about her. “She is nearly a year old, isn’t she? Its funny how time flies. I remember when she was the titchiest thing, and now she’s nearly ready to be weaned.”

Ganondorf grinned and leaned forwards to shift Ralon backwards slightly; the sleeping toddler was perilously close to the edge.

“Time for another?” He teased, and she grinned back.

“As it happens, you won’t have long to wait.”

He chuckled and scooted his chair closer and Zelda lifted Ciery to the side so he could lay a hand on her belly.

“How long is it now?”

Zelda smiled at the tone of excitement in his voice. “A little under a month, or so I hope.”

“I can barely wait.”

“I can see that.” Zelda grinned at his obvious enthusiasm. “You know, sometimes I think you like me better when I’m pregnant. Are you sure you don’t have anything to tell  _me?”_

One fiery red brow rose in astonishment. “Are you actually asking whether or not I  _prefer_  pregnant women?”

Zelda shrugged. “It’s a valid question.”

Ganondorf’s eyes darkened, and he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “It’s the fact that it is  _my_  child you are carrying that attracts me.” He nipped at her ear and she shivered, which made him chuckle darkly. “Put the children to bed and I will show you just how much.”

“You’re on.” She managed, then smiled as his lips met hers. Ganondorf had apologised, as much as he ever did – they both had. If he came down to her Mamma’s memorial stone when it arrived, perhaps… just perhaps they could put this behind them after all. 


	8. Abduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ralon is kidnapped by a group of Hylian's looking to end Ganondorf's reign by sacrificing his son to the Goddesses. Ganondorf goes after them and ends up battling some demons of his own.

Zelda frowned and swore lightly under her breath – a bad habit she’d picked up from her husband, who cursed incessantly – as she nearly walked into the doorjamb. From across the room, Ganondorf laughed at her, and she frowned at him.

“Don’t laugh. I’m nearly up to my eyeballs in paperwork; I’ve got to get it all done at some point.”

He continued to chuckle, then patted the bedspread besides him. “Come and sit, then. What are you doing now?”

Zelda went and sat on the bed before she replied, tucking her feet up under her as she spread the documents out. “Well, I’m supposed to be discussing the development of a new port in the Zora territory on Monday, and then on Wednesday I’m meeting with pretty much every merchant under the sun to discuss the renewal of their trade laws, and then on Thurs-”

“Okay.” Ganondorf interrupted her. “One at a time! I’ll be at the Zoran port thing too, you know.”

“I know.” She sighed, removing her dressing down and lying down against Ganondorf’s broad (and comfortable) chest, flipping through the Zoran documents as she did so. His arm wrapped around her waist as his other hand turned the papers towards him slightly so he could read them as well. “Its just I want to show the Zora that things are running smoothly here. No matter what Nalame says, I know she and her court don’t believe you’re a competent ruler. They think  _I’m_  just barely holding everything together. They want to prove Hyrule’s going down the drain, so I want to prove the opposite.”

There was a slight pause. “Wait until I see  _Queen_  Nalame again.” Ganondorf growled. “I’ll show her a  _competent_ -”

“ _No_.” Zelda said firmly, twisting around to meet his gaze. “What you’ll do is arrive at the meeting confident, calm and in possession of the facts, and give the Zoran ambassadors no choice but to report your capability as a ruler.”

“Will you ever be anything but the voice of reason? Do something fun for a change.”

Zelda snickered and passed him the next page. “Here, read this. I left a copy for you a week ago. Didn’t you get it?”

“I got it, I just haven’t had time to go over it yet. I’ve been overseeing that project of Lord Hajum’s, remember? Anyway, I’ve got until Monday.”

“Which is the day after tomorrow.” She reminded him. “You’d best get cracking.”

Ganondorf swore. “The day after – it isn’t Saturday  _already?_  It was Tuesday yesterday, I swear it was Tuesday.”

Zelda giggled, then leaned up to kiss his cheek. “The start of the slippery slope.”

“I’m not losing my mind.”

“If you say so.”

Ganondorf frowned. “Alright, that’s enough paperwork for tonight.” Ignoring her protests, he simply scooped up the documents and tossed them for the floor. “Time for something far more important.”

“Gan, really, I-”

Zelda’s words were cut off when his lips met hers, effectively silencing any protests she might have had. Her hands twined into his hair as his tongue slipped past her lips to tangle with hers, and then he slipped one hand under her nightgown, sliding ever higher up her thigh.

Just as he reached her sweet spot, the door banged open and they jumped apart, turning to stare at the intruder (with Zelda hurriedly pushing her nightgown back down). The intruder turned out to be Link, who was staying at the castle for one of his many sleepovers. The eleven year old held baby Rivariku tightly in his grip, and Zelda’s smile faded as she registered his white face, and then, the blood trickling from his lip.

“Ganondorf! Zelda!” He shouted.

“Link?” She asked, slipping off the bed to meet him. “What’s wro-”

“There’s men in the nursery!” He cried. “They’re hurting Ralon!”

_“What!?”_  Ganondorf roared, leaping out of bed striding towards the boy. “What do you mean?”

“They’re hurting Ralon, they called him a pig prince, they hit me when I tried to stop them!”

Zelda had just a momentary glimpse of Ganondorf’s furious expression before he disappeared in a swirl of black smoke, both blades in hand. She took Reeva from Link and led him over to the bed.

“Here Link.” She said anxiously. “Let me look at your lip. Did they hurt anyone else?”

He shook his head as he climbed up beside her. “I heard one of them say to the others to  _kill_  us if we woke up and saw anything, and I was awake, and Reeva woke up from the noise, so I grabbed her and ran here.” His expression turned worried. “I don’t know if the others are okay!”

“They’ll be fine.” She said automatically, trying to ignore the heavy pit of dread in the base of her stomach. Ganondorf would be there by now, he’d protect their children. “Here, show me that cut.”

Link obediently offered her his face, and she peered at his wound; a split lip.

“I can heal that.” Zelda said as cheerfully as possible to mask her fear. “Here.”  
She summoned her magic and traced a glowing finger over his lip, giving him a smile as the cut sealed and faded from view. “There. All better.”

Link felt his lip. “Thanks Zelda.” His gaze turned anxious again. “Is Reeva alright? I was running pretty fast, she would have gotten bounced around a lot.”

Zelda turned her attention to the nine-month-old baby, unwrapping her from her swaddling cloth and examining her carefully. “She’s fine.” She said at length. “Thank you, Link, for grabbing her. At least she’s safe.”

The little boy nodded solemnly.

“Link, when you said ‘hurting Ralon’, what exactly did you mean?”

“They gagged him, and when he tried to scream one of them hit him in the head. It was pretty hard, because he fell over and didn’t get up again.”

“Oh, Nayru.” Zelda laid a hand on her belly, trying to settle the nerves there. “But – where are the guards?”

The little boy shrugged. “I don’t know. None came, even when I shouted.”

She shook her head, pressing her hand to her lips. “They’ll be fine.” She said, more to reassure herself than Link. “Ganondorf is there, they’ll be-”

At that moment, black smoke swirled and revealed Ganondorf standing in the middle of the room. His expression was still dark as night, and to her eternal relief, he was holding quite a few children in his arms. Saffie, Ciery, Niruni, Aela and-

“Where’s Ralon?” She gasped, sliding off the bed and running over to her husband.

“Not there.” Ganondorf replied darkly. He turned and strode towards the bed, Zelda hurrying along after him.

“Not there? What do you mean, not there? Where is he?”

“He’s been taken by these men, presumably.”

Having unloaded all the children onto the bed, Ganondorf crouched down in front of Link. “Tell me everything you saw.”

Zelda listened intently as Link hurriedly described the eleven assailants, their clothing, their hair, and what he remembered of their conversation. Niruni was crying, and she absently gathered the child into her arms to soothe her while immersed in Link’s tale.

It appeared that he’d been woken by a noise, most likely one of the kidnappers accidentally walking into a toy left on the floor, and had looked up to see a group of men surrounding Ralon’s bed. At first taking them to be guards in his half asleep state, Link had merely watched in sleepy silence as the men talked to the boy. It was only when he realised they were calling the young prince names, and then watched one of them hit Ralon that they weren’t guards; he’d immediately jumped out of bed and attempted to tackle one of them. He’d been knocked back with a blow to the face, and then came the order to kill any witnesses, so, knowing he was outnumbered and outclassed, Link had grabbed Reeva and run.

Ganondorf was livid, inky smoke curling and dripping from tightly clenched hands, eyes glowing crimson with rage, teeth locked in a vicious snarl. Zelda felt sick to her stomach; where was Ralon now? As Link’s hurried explanation ended, Ganondorf stood up and made like he was going to leave, so she darted across and grabbed his arm before he could.

“Let go, Zelda.” He growled. “I have to find him.”

“Be sensible.” She whispered. “You don’t know where they’ve taken him – wait.” Zelda was struck by sudden inspiration. “Let me see if I can speak with him – he might not be too far away.”  
Ganondorf nodded curtly, impatiently, and Zelda closed her eyes, the better to concentrate.

_*Ralon? Ralon, are you there? Sweetie, can you hear me?*_

No reply.

Terror gripping her, she tried again.

_*Ralon, baby, where are you?*_

_*Mama?*_

Ralon’s mental voice was groggy and weak, but he was there.  
 _*Darling, do you know where you are? Mama and Papa are coming to get you, we just need to know where you are*_

_*Um*_

There was a pause, and Zelda caught glimpses of the passing landscape through his eyes, and she focused as hard as she could, trying to identify them.

_*Mama! Bridge!*_

Came Ralon’s voice, and abruptly, she had it. Tightening her grip on Ganondorf’s arm, she hurriedly explained what she’d seen.

“He’s awake, he’s on horseback, moving fast, they’ve just crossed the bridge into Castor Wilds.”

Ganondorf nodded and went to move her hand off him so he could warp to the wilds.

“Wait! I’m coming with you!” She said, clinging to his hand. “My baby…”

Ganondorf shook his head wordlessly, pushing her hands down. “Too dangerous.” His voice was low, strained with the effort of containing his rage. “They’ve taken my  _son_ … Zelda, it’s too risky. I won’t be able to control myself.” 

Zelda’s eyes widened. There were two choices here; the first, she could insist on going, and only delay their finding Ralon further. With the obvious effort it was taking for her husband to control himself, she knew it would be quite dangerous to distract him while there. The second option, however much she’d have preferred to rescue her child herself, was to let Ganondorf go. She took a step back, registering the way his hands shook with barely restrained violence. “Please hurry.” She whispered, and he was gone.

She immediately closed her eyes and focused on Ralon.

_*Ralon?*_

_*Mama*_

_*Papa’s coming, sweetie. Just hold tight*_

His mental voice was becoming more slurred by the moment.  _*It hurts, Mama*_

_*I know, baby, just hold on*_

_*Mama, help me, they-*_

She felt a sickening flash of pain,  _his_  pain, and then nothing. Try as she might, she couldn’t reach him anymore. Terror ran through her, and she knew Ralon’s kidnappers had done something to render him unconscious – or dead.  _No_. She ordered herself.  _He’s alive. He has to be._

Zelda turned her attention back to the bed full of anxious children, and she took a few deep, calming breaths. Her first priority now was calming them down. Ganondorf would find Ralon. He’d be okay.

“Hey.” She said quietly, climbing onto the bed. “Are you alright? Is anyone hurt?”

A sea of small faces shook their head, and she disregarded their opinions in favour of examining them all herself. Her three youngest children – Reeva, Aela and Runi – were all blissfully unaware of what was happening; Reeva was asleep, Aela was sucking on the corner of the bedspread, and Runi was listening, but Zelda could tell the three year old didn’t know what was happening. Ciery, Saffie and Link, however, knew.

Saffie sniffled hard. “Where’s Ralon?” She asked piteously, and Zelda’s heart broke for her. As Ralon’s twin, their bond was special, despite how they teased each other, and if anything happened to him – Zelda stopped that thought cold.

“Do you know what’s happened?” She asked gently instead, and Saffie shook her head.

“Papa woke me up and said we had to come here – and Ralon’s gone! Where is he, Mama?”

“Ciery?”

But the little girl shook her head. “Papa woke me up too.” She said softly, and Zelda nodded.

“Some bad men have gotten into the castle somehow. They’ve taken Ralon.” Seeing Saffie’s face crumple, Zelda hastened to add. “But Papa’s looking for him right now. Papa  _will_  find him, Saffie. Ralon will be okay.”

Link looked grave. “Did you talk to Ralon?”

“I did.” 

Saffie looked suddenly hopeful. “You did, Mama? What did he say?”

“The men have him on a horse; they’ve gone into Castor Wilds, which I can’t understand.” Zelda mumbled to herself. “There’s no towns, no habitations out there, so why…?”

“Ganondorf will find him, Saff.” Link said confidently, slinging an arm around the nearly six year old’s shoulders. “You know how he gets when he’s determined.”

Saffie nodded, clearly trying to put on a brave face. It worked; for all of two seconds, and then the little girl crumbled, toppling over and crying hysterically into Zelda’s lap. Pulling Saffie into her lap properly, Zelda hugged her little daughter tightly, blinking back tears herself. Link turned towards the three youngest children and began to play with Aela and Runi, though Zelda could see he was just trying to distract himself. As the only two boys in their small herd, Link and Ralon were good friends, and though Link was special friends with Saffie, he always made time to play with Ralon.

Zelda’s stomach twisted in fear at the thought of her tiny, sensitive, scared-of-the-dark son alone at night, held captive by strange men who had proven they had no issues with harming him. She preyed to every deity she could think of that Ganondorf would find him and bring him safely home.

* * *

The instant Ganondorf landed in Castor Wilds, he was inclined to charge headlong at the group of men he could see cantering on horseback up ahead, but he forced himself to wait. If it was just the men, he’d have attacked long ago, but… Ralon was with them, and he wouldn’t risk his son. Though it killed him to wait, to circle, to find his tiny boy and work out which horse he was on, he forced himself to do it.

_They’ve taken my son._  His very being trembled with rage. Ralon was a rarity, he was unique, he was one of the best things ever to happen to him. How  _dare_  these miserable cretins take Ralon from him. Ganondorf felt his lips lifting off his fangs, and he was conscious of magic pooling and dripping through his fingers, but he forced himself to wait. 

No matter how long it took to get Ralon away from them, one thing was certain; these men wouldn’t live to see the next sunrise. Ganondorf concealed himself within a thicket of trees as the men slowed down; the thick swamp sucking at the legs of their steeds and forcing them to walk. The Gerudo King silently cheered this section of Hyrule’s topography that he’d previously dismissed as hideous and useless. Creeping silently around, his gaze slid from horse to horse, searching for his son.

Finally, he spotted him, and adrenalin spiked through his blood at the sight. Ralon was sitting hunched over, clearly cringing in fear, though in the moonlight, he looked almost  _dazed_. Ganondorf registered what the men where saying with a barely contained snarl.

“Should you have hit him so hard, Mabo?” Asked one. “He looks pretty out of it.”

“What does it matter?” Laughed Mabo, the one holding Ralon. “He’ll be dead shortly anyway.”

Ganondorf froze, the word  _dead_  ringing in his ears. He would slaughter the rest, but this man, this  _Mabo_ , he would get something special indeed.

“Shouldn’t we get a move on?” Called another distinctly nervous voice. “That kid, the Hylian one, he’s sure to have alerted them all by now. I don’t want to be here when the Demon King catches up to us.”

_No. You don’t._

Ganondorf tracked the movements of the men with pinpoint accuracy, stalking them slowly through the swamp, ignoring the dismal and creepy calls of the surrounding wildlife. There were eleven of them, and positioned as they were now, he’d have to fight his way through several men before he got to Ralon, who was on the horse in the centre. Clearly, these men weren’t stupid. He would try it, except they were on horseback, and he was on foot. Horses could spook, rear, and take off, all of which would get in his way, giving Mabo a chance to either kill Ralon or escape.

_Not that he’ll get far_ , he promised himself grimly.

Ganondorf circled back slightly, reconsidering. He could attempt to spook the horses into fleeing, but if the steed Ralon was on was flighty, the little boy could either be thrown or taken with the horse when it fled. So. Plan two. He’d scare the  _men_  instead.

Ganondorf moved back around, and when one of the sentries turned his head, he let himself be visible. The man’s gaze moved over and past him, and then his gaze slackened and his face turned dead white as he realised just what he’d seen. Ganondorf melted back into the shadows before the man’s gaze could focus on him properly.

“Th – the Demon King!” He yelped, and the rest of the company turned to stare.

“What!”

“Lon, man, get a hold of yourself. He’s back at the castle. He couldn’t possibly know where we are.”

“I  _saw_  him!” Cried the unfortunate Lon. “He was right there!”

“You’re seeing things.” Said Mabo dismissively. “Anyone, he won’t matter once his precious little pig prince is dead.”

_That did it._  Ganondorf felt the last of his control shatter, and he stepped out of the gloom.

“Do you think so?” He snarled. “Do you really think so?”

One of the men, the unfortunate Lon, panicked and turned his horse to flee; he was barely thirty metres away before the ground opened up beneath him, swallowing both horse and rider with a final panicked scream.

“You have-” Ganondorf began, advancing slowly. “-two seconds to return my son to me, and die.”

“Uh, don’t you mean  _or_  die?” Piped up one man.

He speared the man with a sneer. “If you think I will allow  _any_  of you to live, you are very much mistaken.”  
“You can’t!” Moaned one man, terror evident.

“You have taken my son, and  _hurt_  him.” He spat, advancing another few steps. “I’d say your death is long overdue.”

“Papa!” 

Ganondorf snarled; Ralon was awake, and he was reaching out for his father.

“Rush him!” Screamed Mabo suddenly, and Ganondorf abruptly found himself being charged at by nine galloping horses piloted by nine petrified men. The tenth man, he noticed in the split second before the horses hit, was Mabo, fleeing.  _With Ralon._

That thought giving him urgency, Ganondorf seized the first horse’s bridle as he sidestepped the charge and yanked viciously down, bringing the horse to its knees and snapping his rider’s neck. He then leapt forwards, releasing a blast of energy that instantly vaporised three horses, then grabbed the collar of one man as he passed, bringing him to the ground. The next victim was a man who hacked wildly at his head with a sword; Ganondorf threw his own blade and pinned the man to a tree through the abdomen. The next rider were crushed by a tree as a blast of magic sent it toppling down, the next yanked from his horse as the best fell. Ganondorf gripped the man’s head and tore it clean from his body, noting with detached interest the spine as it pulled clear of the torso. Dropping these bloody parts to the ground, he advanced upon the last man, who, his horse pinned by the falling tree, had been thrown clear. 

Recognising the need to question the men, Ganondorf picked them both up in one hand by the scruff of the neck, then went checking for survivors. The men had all been killed, but a few horses still writhed in agony; thoroughly disgusted that these men had made him end the lives of innocent creatures, he swiftly ended their suffering. Finally, he threw the two unfortunates at his feet, where they cowered.

“You are going to tell me what you wanted with my son.” He said with quiet menace; his blood itching with the need to slay them, and quickly. 

“You ripped out his spine. You – you just – you killed – he –  _spine_ -” Gibbered one man, hands shaking, eyes rolling back in his head; Ganondorf recognised the signs. He was out of his mind with terror. Reaching for him, he cut the man’s throat; he’d get no useful information out of him.

The final remaining man wore a mask of sheer terror. “S-s-s-s-orry.” H stuttered. “Mabo – Mabo hired us-”

This sentence kept the man alive a little longer. “He hired you? What does he want with my son?” Ganondorf snarled.

“He said – sacrifice the pig prince to the –the Goddesses – they’ll get rid of you th- then.”

“Where’s he going?”

“Al-altar. Not far from h-here.” The man pointed in the direction Mabo had fled in. “Near a m-mile.”

Ganondorf snapped his neck like a twig, and set off into the swamp.

The disgustingly sticky, sweaty, humid, gooey horrible conditions of the swamp pulled at his bare skin as he ran; belatedly, he realised he hadn’t even put on a shirt – he was hunting down his son’s kidnappers dressed only in trousers.

The more he focused on the word sacrifice, the more furious he became, grinding his teeth til he was sure his fangs would snap right off. Mabo’s blind rush through the swamp left easy to track signs, and he soon arrived at the so called ‘altar’. It was a broad flat stone, covered with various offerings, and in the centre sat Ralon, who was cowering, hands over his head. Standing before him was Mabo, intoning a plea to the Goddesses, a bowl of scented oil in one hand – and a wicked blade in the other. 

He very clearly heard the prayer: “Life for a life, may you accept this offering, may the pain the child feels be echoed in that of the father, through blood that they share. Goddesses, please, end this reign-”

Mabo’s voice was strained, shaky and hurried, and just as Ganondorf burst out of the clearing, the man dumped the oil over Ralon – and broke his arm.

The sickening  _snap_  of bone echoed through the clearing as Ralon’s screams began. Ganondorf slammed into the man just as he was bringing his dagger up over his head, knocking the man to the ground. Rage clouded his vision, and Ganondorf held the man fast to the ground by the throat. Mabo turned blue, fingers scrabbling pathetically against his grip as the Demon King seized the sacrificial dagger. He could feel his fangs growing and lengthening, could feel his nails elongating into talons, knew his face was changing in his rage, become bestial. Ganondorf released a bestial roar as he felt the points of his tusks burst through the skin and bone of his jaw, as his body grew in size, bones popping and cracking as he changed.

“You would  _take_  my son?” He snarled, his voice deep and inhuman, before he plunged the blade into the soil besides Mabo’s head. “You would  _harm_  him?” He twisted Mabo’s arm right out of its socket, relishing the agonised scream, ignoring his pleas for mercy. “You would  _kill_  him?” Ganondorf dug his talons into the Hylian’s soft underbelly and tore out a handful of guts, letting them splatter to the ground. “You would sacrifice him to  _your_  Goddesses?” Another roar escaped his mouth as Ganon plunged his bloody talons into Mabo’s throat, ripping out tongue, windpipe and jaw in the same motion. 

Ganon eagerly watched the life drain out of the man, the blood, so much blood, it was good, and it was  _better_  than good. Death, destruction, this is what felt  _right_ , he needed more, he needed to do more, to  _kill_  more – he lifted his head, scenting fresh meat. 

Eyes dulled with rage and anger assessed the small crying figure perched high on a rock, huddled over and cradling a useless arm. Ganon noted this with pleasure as he eased forwards, off the cooling corpse. The youngling was injured – it would fight back even less.

Just as he was coiling his body, preparing to strike, the youngling cried out. 

“Papa!”

Ganon froze. That noise, that was a  _word_  – it meant something, not to him, to the  _other_ him. All at once, his rational mind slammed into him. Ganondorf stared with horrified eyes at his son as he realised just what he’d been about to do. His bones popped and crackled as he forced himself to shrink, and he groaned in discomfort as his tusks receded painfully, his talons shrinking and his fangs fitting back in his jaw once more.

The second his transformation was complete, he threw himself forwards.

“Ralon?” He cried anxiously, leaning on the rock and grabbing his son, careful not to jostle his broken arm.

“Papa.” The little boy hiccupped through his tears and half stood, half fell into his fathers embrace. Ganondorf held him tightly for a moment, horror still strong in his blood as he realised what he’d been about to do. He hadn’t lost control of himself like that in over a century – he’d been about to  _kill_  his son. Kill him, and  _enjoy_  it.

_No_. Dread washed through him. What would Zelda say? She’d be horrified. She’d never trust him again, not ever. Not knowing he had the potential to harm their children. It was true he wasn’t one to feel regret or remorse for his actions, any of them, but this… shame licked at him. It took Ganondorf a moment to identify the emotion, but when he realised what it was, he bowed his head as his long neglected conscience gnawed at him.

“Ralon?” He asked, pushing the little boy’s hair back and assessing his injuries. His arm was definitely broken, that much was obvious, and he had a large bruise covering a third of his face. One eye was puffy and swollen shut, and the other was dazed with an obvious concussion.

“Papa…” He slurred, and Ganondorf lifted him into his arms. Even if Ralon had seen his pitiful lapse in control, Goddess willing, he wouldn’t remember it. He held his son closer to his chest, and drew his magic about him. No. Zelda could never know. Anger began to take hold once more. Of course, it hadn’t gone, it had just been shoved to the back burner while he examined Ralon. Now, it began to course through him; directed at himself. Ganondorf wasn’t used to feeling shame. It was emotion long since dismissed as an emotion for weaker people, for he was used to always feeling sure in his conviction that his actions were right and necessary. Now, he knew that what he had done – almost done, he corrected – was not any of those things. There was no pride to be held in those few seconds, and he wished he could purge his mind of those thoughts _. No matter._  Ganondorf attempted to dismiss any and all thought and emotion connected to that moment when he’d lost control – that in itself angered him. He didn’t lose control. Not anymore. He prided himself on his self-restraint; he had retained an exclusive hold on his mortal form for a few centuries now, and in this moment, he’d broken his streak. 

The Demon King growled furiously as he warped back into his bedchamber, startling Zelda so badly she almost dropped Runi, who she was holding. He would put this behind him. His one consolation prize was that the transformation, his  _physical_  transformation, had not had time to complete – his shame was in that he had allowed his mind to weaken – he had lost his control, and  _allowed_  it. His reasoning, his judgement, his very psyche – he had allowed that to warp, to change, to become bestial. He’d become Ganon.  _Never again._

“Ralon!” Zelda came running across the room, and he swiftly grabbed her shoulders before she careened into him.

“Careful.” He growled, working to bring his voice back to normal – it was low and rough with stress, pain and anger still. “His arm’s broken, and I’m pretty sure he’s concussed.”

“Oh, baby.” Zelda reached out and stroked their son’s hair lightly, her eyes huge and tear filled. She looked up at him then. “Did you – the men?” She asked hesitantly.

“They were put down.” He said shortly.

Zelda bit her lip. “I’ve been talking to Link – he says there were no guards. Not a single one on the whole way from the nursery to here. I’ll take Ralon to the healers, and you go find out why our children were left unprotected.”

He nodded. That was a good plan. That got him out of her trusting and loving gaze – trust he didn’t deserve. Ganondorf carefully put Ralon into Zelda’s arms, both of them working hard to avoid jostling his injured arm, and then he kissed her forehead briefly, then warped down to the soldiers barracks. Yes, this was good. This was  _very_  good. He could take his anger out on the guards that, in leaving Ralon and the rest of the children unprotected, had allowed this to happen. 

Zelda turned her attention from the fading swirl of black smoke to her injured child. “Oh, Goddesses.” She turned to the anxious children on the bed. “See, Saffie? Papa found him. He’ll be fine. Link, you’re in charge while I take Ralon to the healers.”

“Can’t you heal him, Zelda?” He asked, concern in his tone.

“I could try, but with an injury of this extent… I’m not experienced enough. I’d rather leave it in the hands of professionals.”

Link was white faced, but nodded. “You can count on me, princess.”

She smiled at him, one hand on the servant’s door. “I know.”

With that, Zelda was flying down the stairs. Ralon was in an incredible amount of pain – she had to get him to said professionals quickly.

She burst through the door of the healers wing and found it empty – this was to be expected, seeing as it was past midnight. So, Zelda used her magic and sent the door to the healers sleeping quarters banging open with a tremendous noise. In no time at all, she had fifteen very confused healers rubbing the sleep from their eyes as they came to figure out what was going on. The senior healers, including Old Mother Raimli, snapped into business mode the second they laid eyes on Ralon.

“What happened?” Snapped Raimli as she helped Zelda set the dazed little boy on a children’s examination bench. Zelda very hurriedly gave an explanation of what she knew, and what she thought had transpired, for, as she said, Ganondorf hadn’t yet given her all the details.

The healers stripped Ralon of his filthy, muddied and bloodied clothes using magic, then carefully examined him for further injuries outside of the obvious. Several healers were off to prepare a freshly mixed potion, and two others carefully summoned their magic and healed his broken arm.

“It’s a very bad break.” Mused Mother Raimli just before they did. “You can see through his skin that there’s bone floating.”

After the bone had knitted, it was deemed that the severity of the break meant that the bones were weak, and would be weak for a while, and so his arm was firmly bound and splinted, while his minor bruises and cuts were healed. A solid spell had been applied to the bruise covering his face – it would draw out the swelling and colour, as well as magically heal the pain and concussion, though, as Raimli warned, he’d likely be very tired and lethargic for a day or two. 

Finally, Ralon, half asleep as he was, was coaxed into drinking the potion prepared especially for him, and though he wrinkled his nose and tried to push it away, he did drink it. That put him into a deep sleep, and Zelda hovered anxiously over the healers as they produced a clean child’s tunic and slipped him into it.

“But he’ll be alright?” She demanded, and Mother Raimli patted her hand.

“He’ll be fine. The little prince will be very tired and probably quite sore for a few days, but he’ll be fine, I promise you that, Zelda.”

  
“What about his concussion? Do you think there’s been any permanent damage?”

“Only time will tell, but we aren’t healers for nothing, you know. Our magic means that it is very doubtful he’ll suffer any long lasting effects.”

  
Zelda breathed a sigh of relief, and Mother Raimli patted her shoulder. “You can leave him here for the night, or you can take him-” Mother Raimli didn’t get her words out before Zelda interrupted.

“I’m taking him!” She moved forwards to stroke his damp red hair softly. “I’m not letting him out of my sight.”

After a final check, she was allowed to carefully lift her son into her arms, assisted by her magic to ensure his comfort, and then Zelda floated slowly with Ralon back up the stairs. She hushed the children when she reached her husband’s bedchamber, and they crowded around as she laid Ralon carefully on the bed, then sat next to him.  
Saffie touched her twin’s hand, then looked up anxiously. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, Saff.” Zelda pushed her daughter’s hair back. “He’s been hurt, but the healers have fixed him up – now he just needs sleep and plenty of rest.” 

  
Zelda smiled at her children; Saffie was yawning through her relieved smile, Link looked dead on his feet, Ciery was under the blankets and only just awake, and Runi, Aela and Reeva were all dead to the world.

“Bedtime, I think.” She said as cheerfully as possible. “Ralon will be fine.”

Ciery sat up. “Not the nursery, Mama! What if they come back?”

She kissed her daughter’s forehead softly. “No, not the nursery. You can all sleep here. This bed is plenty big enough.” That was true. Ganondorf’s bed was absolutely enormous – you could fit a herd of elephants in and have room left over for another.

“Even Link?” Asked Saffie sleepily.

“If he wants.” Zelda said, more occupied in rearranging the children that were already asleep.

The tips of Link’s ears were pink, but he scooted under the sheets anyway, close to the edge. 

The problem with having so many small babies, is that they might get squished, mused Zelda to herself, and then she summoned her magic, drawing two squashy armchairs out of the circular chamber and into Ganondorf’s bedchamber instead. A multitude of cushions and blankets arrayed inside the chairs as they were shoved up against the edge of the bed formed three handy bassinets, and she carefully laid Aela and Reeva inside them.

Ralon, Saffie, Ciery, Runi and Link were left to snuggle up in the bed with her, and as she lay down, Carefully tucking Ralon close to her side, Zelda hoped Ganondorf would return soon.

* * *

By the time Zelda had reached the healers, Ganondorf had reached the soldiers barracks, and stormed straight for the Captain of the Guards quarters, where the shouting had then drawn quite a few guards out of bed.

“Is there a reason the  _entire_  fourth floor was empty of guards?” He roared, the Captain and his men cowering slightly against a wall.

“It – it was your orders, sire.” Stammered the Captain. Ordinarily, Ganondorf was disposed to like Carobi, but now… his foolishness had nearly cost Ralon his life. _Twice_. Ganondorf gritted his teeth.

  
“ _My_  orders?” He asked, slowly and precisely. “What do you mean,  _my_  orders?”

Carobi made a sign, and a guard dashed back into the captain’s quarters and came back with a scroll of parchment, the seal of which was broken. The guard went to hand it to him, then balked and gave it to Carobi instead, who swallowed hard then walked forwards to give it too him. Ganondorf snatched it from the man’s grip and scanned it in terse silence, conscious of many a confused and covert glance to his attire – muddy and  _very_  bloody trousers.

It was a note from him, apparently, ordering the fourth floor clear of all soldiers on the 25th – that night. The writing was very good, he thought bitterly, it had been done very well. A forgery, and a clever one at that – he could only tell it from his own hand from the slight, barely noticeable errors in the formation of the letters.

“This is a  _forgery_.” He spat, and every Hylian in the room paled. 

“A forgery?” Stammered Carobi.

“Because of this letter-” Ganondorf began, waving the offending paper in the air. “-a force of eleven men were not only able to break into the castle, but they were able to  _abduct_  and make off with my  _son_.” He paused to let the enormity of this statement sink in; some of the men, correctly comprehending the danger they were in, looked close to collapse. “These men made it all the way to Castor Wilds before we discovered Ralon was missing. They planned to  _kill_  him. Do you see why I find it so incredibly unacceptable I find it that he has been left undefended?”

Venom seeped through his tone, and Carobi flinched before steeling himself.

“Is the prince alright, your Majesty?”

“He is now. I went and got him back, and he’s with the Queen now.”

  
“And… the kidnappers? Do you want a contingent sent out to arrest them?”

  
Ganondorf barked a laugh. “Arrest them? Yes, send out men immediately, but you won’t be arresting live men. Make sure you take a shovel. You’ll need it.”

Carobi exchanged a glance with another guard. “…Oh.”

Glaring at the letter again, he frowned at the assembled men. “I came here tonight with the intention of making an example of someone.” He purred, leaving no doubt as to what he meant by that. “But, having found such as skilful forgery, I suppose it’s no wonder you were taken in by it.” Ganondorf speared Carobi with a hard glance. “From now on, you stick to guard rotations unless you see me tell you to deviate with your own eyes. Understood?” 

Carobi saluted. “Yes, sire. Of course.”

“One more thing, Captain.” Ganondorf had just noticed something… interesting. “Did it never occur to you that it was strange this was sealed with the Hylian Royal Crest,  _not_ my own seal?”

Carobi paled again. “I – I suppose I’m used to seeing the Hylian Crest – from before. My sincerest apologies, sire.”  
Ganondorf felt his lip curl as he turned to leave. “Don’t let it happen again.”

He warped back to his chambers, landing in his bathing chamber rather than his bedchamber. He was absolutely filthy, and he had no wish to disturb the children if they were asleep in there (which he had no doubt Zelda would have done). As he sank into the warm waters of the bathing pool and set about scrubbing himself clean, his thoughts returned to his actions in Castor Wilds. A new feeling warred with the shame; self-loathing. This was also a rare emotion, last felt when he’d been unable to protect his children from Hyrule’s invasion five hundred years ago. Well, Ralon was still alive, but the loathing stayed. He could have so easily have killed his son, his  _only_  son… it didn’t bear thinking about. Ganondorf sighed. He would try to forget this. He hadn’t done anything… Ralon was all right now.

Clean and dry once more, the Demon King opened his bedchamber door to a sight that warmed even his heart. Every one of his children was asleep in his bed with his wife – well, most of his children, he corrected, spying Reeva and Aela in their makeshift bassinets. And Link as well? He supposed he couldn’t object. Ganondorf padded silently across the room and slipped beneath the sheets, shifting his family over so he could get in. Zelda sleepily raised her head, and he kissed her forehead lightly. She smiled and sat up, shifting Ralon so he was in between them.

“He’s all right.” She whispered. “The healers said he’ll be fine, he just needs rest. Will you tell me what happened in the morning?”

Ganondorf nodded, relieved, as he brushed a finger down the little boy’s cheek. Relief warred with his anger at himself, and as Zelda watched him with such love in her eyes, he knew that in this moment, he didn’t deserve it. Still, Zelda wanted to know what had happened… he’d tell her what happened to the men, and that Mabo had been killed, but he would never tell her about Ganon. He buried the self-loathing, the regret, the anger, and tried to forget as he held his wife and son close to him, Saffie nestling closer to his side in her sleep. Ganondorf cast a protective eye over his family… they were all there, they were all safe, and he  _would_  protect them.


	9. Arolophas Tropnicautis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this story, Isiya (Hyrule's resident bug scientist) finds a very important spider in Hyrule - the only problem is, this spider is not supposed to be there. 
> 
> More child pov practice!

“So the aim is, your Majesty, to address the holes in the financial sector and plug them by finding any superfluous operations and eliminating them?”

“That’s exactly right.” Zelda smiled at her advisor. “And may I say, very concisely summarised, my Lord.”

The man beamed at her praise while the other advisors took notes, and Zelda looked down to check off the next item on her agenda. She’d just finished outlining a new plan to eradicate the last remaining cracks in Hyrule’s economy, to expunge the last of her Kingdom’s economic difficulties and restore them to their rightful place as a commercial and mercantile powerhouse. 

“But why were there cracks in the first place?”  
Zelda suppressed a sigh as she turned to her husband, who lounged in his chair, completely at ease with himself in a direct contrast to the upright rigid posture of the rest of the occupants of the room. Most days, he was quite brilliant in their meetings with their advisors; quick to point out flaws, that’s true, but also fast to offer solutions and bring to the table new ideas, new innovations to correct these small and often minor errors in their Kingdom’s management. On other days, he was inclined to be as irritating as possible.  _Like today._

“It seems to me that there was a great deal of mismanagement here a few years ago.” He continued, the note of glee when speaking about  _mismanagement_  there for all to hear.

Zelda frowned at him, knowing exactly what he was getting at. “You forget, Sire, that my mother was not political; she never expected to rule as regent and so never trained for it. However, even  _you_  can’t deny that her advisors did well in keeping things running smoothly.”

Some of the advisors who had served the former Queen straightened under her praise, until they wilted at Ganondorf’s next words.

“Smoothly, perhaps, but not well. All they did was put plaster on the walls to hide broken stones.”

Zelda bristled. “May I remind you that the bulk of what we are correcting is due to your own fine presence?” This was, of course, a reference to his invasion – and how the embargo had seriously weakened Hyrule’s economy.

Far from offending him as it usually would, Ganondorf only chuckled slightly. “Touché.” He said, leaving the advisors to watch them, wide eyed. Really, she hated these contrary moods he sometimes ended up in. It was so  _annoying_.

At that moment, running feet were heard, and a small figure burst into the room. “Mama! Papa!”

“Isiya?” Called Zelda, half standing as her daughter barrelled into her. “Whatever’s the matter?”

“Emergency!” The seven year old wheezed, puffed out from her running.

“Emergency?” Zelda checked her daughter for injuries as Ganondorf leaned forwards to see properly, clearly wondering if he needed to go and punch somebody. “You’re not hurt?”

“No!”

“Is anyone else hurt?”

“No!”

Zelda relaxed slightly. “Oh, good... what’s the emergency?”

“Saffie hasn’t set the curtains on fire again, has she?” Interjected Ganondorf dryly.

“No Papa.” Isiya shook her head solemnly and stared at her parents. Really, they could be so very silly. She slid a hand into her pinafore and pulled out her newest acquisition, and set him on her mother’s hand. Mama immediately shrieked and flung Willard across the table, which made most of the advisors push their chairs back in a hurry. 

“Mr Willard!” Yelled Isiya, then scrambled onto the table to collect her new best friend, an enormous hairy spider who went by the name of Willard.

“Mama! That wasn’t nice.” She said, frowning at her mother. “You could have hurt him.”

“Sorry, sweetpea.” Mama apologised. “Mr…  _Willard_  startled me.”

Isiya accepted the apology, then carefully examined the arachnid for injuries. “Mr Willard forgives you, Mama, but you have to kiss him better!”

She held out the spider expectantly; mama sent papa a look that said ‘help me!’, but that was ridiculous. Why  _wouldn’t_  mama want to kiss Willard?

“Where did you get him?” Asked papa, and Isiya beamed. Papa was always interested in her bugs. Then his words reminded him of the emergency.

“Emergency!” She shouted at the top of her lungs. “Mama, Papa, I found Willard in the kitchen storerooms, and-”

“What were you doing in there? You know you’re not supposed to go there.” Asked mama sternly.

“I was looking for spiders, Mama, pay attention!”

That made Papa laugh, so Isiya turned to him. “Look, Papa. This is Willard. He’s thirty-six years old. He’s an accountant.” She announced importantly.

Mama looked bemused while papa snickered to himself. “An accountant?” he asked. “Is this emergency? You found a spider-accountant?”

Isiya stamped her foot. “No!” Disgust and indignation got the better of her. “You don’t know? I’ll show you! Papa, hold Willard.” She dumped the spider in her father’s hand then scrambled off the table and darted towards the door, heading towards the library.

“I’ll be back soon!” She shouted over her shoulder. “Don’t lose Willard!”

Ganondorf stared at the spider in his palm. He could see all the advisors staring with varying degrees of horror on their faces. Besides him, Zelda was frowning at the spider. The arachnid really was a fascinating creature – roughly the size of Zelda’s hand, with an enormous hairy body in striped tones of blues and oranges, and instead of eight eyes, it had six. He’d never seen anything like it. 

“Have you seen a spider like this before?” He asked, turning to face his Queen, and she shook her head. 

“I haven’t, come to think of it.” 

She looked interested beneath her dislike of the spider; at that moment, Isiya came hurtling back into the room staggering beneath the weight of an enormous book. Zelda helped the child put the book on the table, and then Isiya climbed Zelda like a ladder and back onto the table as well.

The little girl ignored them all as she started flipping through the pages, evidently searching for something. 

“Do you know who Malo Berbellum is?” She asked without looking up.

Ganondorf said no as he poked at the spider, making it try and bite him, but Zelda said yes. He rolled his eyes. Of course she knew.

“He was a naturalist from the last century, a very famous one. Is this one of his books, Issy?”

“Yeah, and it’s my favourite.” Isiya found the pages she was looking for and held out a demanding hand for Willard. “Papa, I hope you looked after Mr Willard.”

Papa nodded as he passed the blue and orange spider back to her, and she stroked his hairy back, which made Willard stretch his eight long legs contentedly. 

“Willard was very well behaved.” Said papa, and Isiya nodded. 

“Mr Willard is a good accountant.” She pointed at the page, where a skilful rendition of a spider identical to Willard stared up at them. “Look, Mama. It’s Willard.”

“I can see that.” Mama said, eyeing the picture and then Willard with a wary eye, which was silly. Spiders aren’t scary if you treat them like friends. “But, Issy dear, we’re in the middle of an important meeting. We can look at your spider later, alright?”

Isiya stamped her foot. Mama wasn’t getting it! “No Mama!” She shouted. “Its an emergency! Read Willard’s name!”

 _“Arolophas Tropnicautis_.” Mama read dutifully. “Very nice. But Isiya, sweetie, I’m going to have to insist-”

“Mama! Look at where he’s from!”

There was a pause as mama read the page. “Native to and found only in Acerose…  _only_ … what’s he doing here?”

Isiya felt profound relief. Mama was  _getting_  it. “That’s the emergency, Mama! Willard isn’t supposed to be here! I found him in a crate from Ace – Aca-”

“Acerose.” Papa finished.

“Yeah, that.” Isiya said. “Aca – place gives us fruit, Mama, and Willard hid in the fruit. If Willard brought his family, he could make an infest – an infest-”

“An infestation.” Finished Mama. She read the rest of the page quickly. “Apparently, Willard here is something of an apex predator in the arachnid world. He’s a bird eating spider…”

“That’s why Willard can’t bring his family, Mama. They’ll get in the gardens and hurt the songbirds! They don’t have  _de-fences_  against these spiders! Malo Berbellum wrote all about  _ecko-systems_  and how you can’t change them without hurting the  _evira-ment!”_

Zelda frowned intently at the page before her, then frowned at the Minster of Trade and Commerce; specifically, the man who handled Hyrule’s trade with overseas Kingdoms. “Minster Anto, do you know anything about these spiders?”

He looked nervous. “Uh… no, your Majesty.”

“Really?” She raised a brow. “Because if the border staff who are supposed to inspect all incoming trade for foreign life are slacking, that would mean an investigation.” She tapped her fingers on the table briefly, narrowing her eyes at the suddenly sweaty man. “One of two things has happened here; either this spider has somehow escaped the intense scrutiny of your workers, which means an overhaul of how trade is inspected, or, the staff are shirking their duties, which means an investigation into why and how the higher ups are not aware of this.” She narrowed her eyes further as Anto mopped his brow. “Unless they  _are_.” She finished, letting the threat hang in the air.

“No, your Majesty, I wasn’t aware – I had no idea. I’ll –I’ll send people in right away; we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Good. Hyrule has wonderful flora and fauna, some of it quite rare, and I wouldn’t want it destroyed by any foreign creatures disrupting the ecosystems, as my daughter has so helpfully informed us.”

“That’s another thing.” Interjected Ganondorf darkly. “You don’t know about the spiders, Minister? How does a seven year old notice what an entire task force dedicated to this kind of thing missed?  _Something_  has gone wrong here.  _Someone_  is to blame.”

If she’d thought her threat was bad, well. Zelda suspected Anto was about to pass out. 

“No, your Majesties.” He stammered. “I mean, yes, something has certainly gone wrong, and though I hope it’s a one off thing that this spider got through, but if it’s a female with eggs… yes, I see the danger to Hyrule’s environment, and I’ll take immediate steps to rectify it.”

“See that you do.” Said Ganondorf carelessly, though there was still an edge of danger to his voice.

Zelda called to her steward then. “Have the kitchens and the storerooms searched from top to bottom. Have the maids in the castles on the look out for any strays. It may be a fluke, but with such a spider I don’t want to take the risk. Issy, hold up Willard.” The child obediently held up the spider. “This is the spider, take careful note of what it looks like. If you find any others or eggs, they are to be destroyed at once.”

The steward nodded. “At once, your Majesty.” They watched as he departed the room.

Apparently eager to shift the blame, Anto spoke up. “Your Majesty, just because the Princess found the spider in our imports doesn’t necessarily mean-”

He was cut off by Isiya rocketing to her feet and pointing imperiously at him. “Mr Willard didn’t fly here, Mr Man!” She shouted.

“Isiya!” Said Zelda sharply. “Do  _not_  shout and point like that. Where are your manners?”

“Sorry Mama.” The little girl sat down again. “Does Mr Willard have to die?”

Zelda hesitated and exchanged a look with Ganondorf; Isiya had a collection of carefully preserved dead bugs a mile long, but her live ones… she always became special friends with them, strange and hard to understand as it was. She would surely take it hard.

“Mr Willard has to die.” Isiya sounded very calm about it. “To protect the  _ecko-system_.”

“Er… yes dear.” Said Zelda cautiously. “Come on, we’ll take him up to your collection now.”

“Okie.” The little girl picked the arachnid up then held out her hands. “Carry me Mama?”

Zelda called her magic and floated Willard into the air; She’d carry her daughter but not the spider. 

“I think this meeting is over for today.” She said, standing up. Many of the advisors looked relieved as they stood as well; it would certainly be peculiar trying to return to common matters after all this excitement. “We’ll meet again next week. Minister Anto, I’ll give you a month to investigate the matter of this spider. I expect your report on my desk early May.”

Anto nodded and bowed his head slightly. “Of course, your Majesty.”

Zelda moved out of the room then, the brightly coloured spider floating along besides them doing confused flips in its bubble; she was aware of Ganondorf following her. “I simply cannot believe Issy found this when a whole trained squad of workers didn’t.”

“Unless they’re slacking, and now they’ll regret they got caught.” Ganondorf said.

“True. I hope that isn’t the case, though; it means more than just these spiders could have gotten through. It means some of our creatures could have gone to other Kingdom’s too. I’ll write to our trade partners so they can conduct their own searches, if they wish.”

“Good idea.” 

“Are you proud, Mama, Papa?” Asked Isiya suddenly. “I found the spider and  _none_  of the adults did!”

“ _Very_  proud, Issy.” Said Ganondorf with a chuckle. “You sure showed up those stuffy ministers!”

Zelda sent him a glare over their daughter’s head; she disliked how he would deride and insult her fellow Hylian’s in front of their children.

An hour later they were in the nursery, and Isiya had pulled out her trunk that housed her insect collection from under her bed. She then proceeded to inform her parents that spiders had their own section – they weren’t ordinary bugs.

“They’re  _arachnids!”_  She said importantly, arranging Willard’s limp legs on his card. Willard the thirty six year old bird-eating accountant spider was no longer alive; he’d been humanely killed, then neatly pinned to one Isiya’s special bug cataloguing cards and properly labelled.

She made a new place for him, then shut her trunk securely, and Ganondorf slid it back into place under her bed while Zelda sat down on the counterpane with her daughter in her lap.

“You did a very good thing today, Issy.” She said seriously. “You showed us a serious threat to Hyrule’s ecosystems – more than Willard could have got in, and that means our crops and livestock could potentially be at risk. But thanks to you, we know about the threat and can prevent it from becoming worse.” The bed sagged with a creak as Ganondorf sat down beside them, and as the dip caused Zelda to fall into him, he wrapped an arm around her waist and stroked Isiya’s blonde hair with his free hand as he agreed.

“Your mama is right, Isiya.” He said. “Your bug hunting has saved the day.”

Isiya bounced a little in her excitement. “Can I go down to the gardens, Mama? I want to hunt down another accountant.”

Zelda exchanged a look with her husband; they both barely avoided outright laughing. “Do you know what an accountant is, sweetpea?”

“No, Mama.”

“Leave it.” Ganondorf advised. “It’s funnier if she doesn’t know.”

Isiya started squirming to get down. “Bye Mama! Bye Papa! I’ll bring you more spiders!”

“Oh, no, we really don’t need-” Zelda called out, but it was too late; the little girl was already out the door and headed towards the stairs. Zelda sighed and looked up at her husband. “There’ll be spiders in my bed tonight, I guarantee it.”

Ganondorf chuckled. “Come and sleep with me then.” He said, standing up and offering his hand to her. Zelda grinned at him. 

“Offer accepted. Just so long as she doesn’t put them in your bed too.”


	10. Zelda's Tonic

Zelda wrinkled her nose in distaste as she swallowed the last of the foul tasting contraceptive tonic she kept on her dressing table, and stood, pulling her braid over her shoulder as she crossed the room towards her bed, then smiled; Ganondorf had snuck in there in the time it took her to braid her hair, and he was now reading nonchalantly, sneaking her a hopeful look. She knew the reason behind this; she’d been keeping him at arms length following the birth of their latest child, as she always did, and while he accepted his banishment from her bed with a good a grace as he could muster, it didn’t stop him from becoming antsy after a while.

“You know,  _gentlemen_  wait until their wives give them the say so to return to bed.” She said sarcastically as she slipped beneath the sheets. Ganondorf snickered.

“Am I not allowed to wish to sleep with my wife?” He inquired in far too an innocent tone; Zelda mock narrowed her eyes at him.

“To sleep, or to  _sleep?”_  She asked pointedly, and he chuckled.

“Both, I think.”

Feeling a thrill of excitement as she envisioned Ganondorf’s reaction, Zelda wiggled her way closer and wormed her way into the crook of his arm. The tonic took a little while to work, but if she took it regularly and on time, there was no reason she couldn’t allow him back in her bed. After all, she couldn’t fall pregnant  _now_. “Then tonight we shall do both.” She whispered, then kissed him.

Ganondorf wouldn’t have believed his ears but for the fact Zelda’s sweet lips were on his own. Eagerly scooping her into his grasp, he sat up, kissing her hard, letting his hands roam over her body as he’d been itching to do for months now – four months, to be exact, the same age as their latest daughter, Rivariku. He really didn’t like the Hylian method of confinements and locking him out of her rooms at night, but Zelda insisted. Hopefully now her words and actions meant the drought was finally broken, and he could sate his lust within her luscious body. Ganondorf could already feel himself hardening as her warmth settled right over his clothed cock. When Zelda began to rock her hips against his he suspected he might just lose his mind.

He pulled back slightly, just to make sure. “Really?” Ganondorf murmured against her lips.

“Really.” She murmured back, her tongue darting out to slide over his lower lip in a move that was startlingly erotic. “After all, it’s been two weeks.” He got the distinct impression that she was speaking more to herself than him, and that made him pull back further.

“Two weeks? Two weeks since what?”

Zelda started slightly, and looked at him with an expression so close to nervousness he frowned at her, feeling annoyed as his curiosity and foreboding pulled him out from his arousal.

“Oh, it’s nothing really.” Zelda’s voice was suspiciously light and airy, so he narrowed his eyes until she sighed and relented.

“About two weeks ago, I started taking a contraceptive tonic.”

Ganondorf froze, then as his mind properly registered her words, he slid her off him and sat up properly. He could tell from the look on her face she hadn’t really meant for him to pick up on her words, and that made it all the more reason to figure out her meaning.

“A contraceptive tonic.” He said, delivering the words as though they had a bitter taste to them. “Why?”

“Because I need a break. My body needs a break.” He looked away to ponder these strange words, and Zelda wiggled back into his line of sight. “Gan, how many children do we have?”

He frowned. “Six.”

“And how long have we been married?”  
There was a small pause as Ganondorf thought this over – he wasn’t sure if this was a trick question or not. “A little over five years.” He said eventually. “But what do you mean, you need a break? A break from what? Zel, we haven’t done anything for months.”

She looked down. “That’s not what I mean.” Sighing, she looked up to meet his gaze once more. “It’s a  _contraceptive_  tonic, Gan. As in, to prevent pregnancy.”

Ganondorf didn’t say anything, was just aware of his eyes narrowing. To prevent pregnancy?  _So_. She didn’t want to bear any more of his children? She was finally showing her disdain for him – she didn’t want anymore  _Gerudo_  children, that much was obvious.

“It’s the kind that takes a little time to work, which is why we haven’t done anything yet.” Zelda continued.

“A  _break_.” He said flatly, attempting to see if he could trip her up, make her reveal the depths of her contempt for him. Ganondorf recalled he’d once said that either she was telling the truth, or she was a marvellous actress, and now, he was rather inclined to believe she had been lying this whole time. Truly, the depths of her malicious nature had fooled him completely. He felt his lips lift off his teeth slightly, and then Zelda looked worried, before she reached out and laid a hand on his cheek, which he promptly removed.

“Listen to me, please.” Zelda felt a pit of worry forming in the base of her stomach; she could tell Ganondorf was going to be unreasonable; he wasn’t going to listen. “I’ve been pregnant pretty much non-stop for five years. I get a few months off after each birth, typically, and then what do you know?  _You_  start acting like you’ll die without – without-” Goddesses above, why could she never get her words out? “- _bedding_  me and then _I_  end up pregnant again. Well, not this time. I need a break.”

He looked angry now, and she could see the flicker of hurt lurking in his eyes. “You don’t want to bear my children.”

Zelda rolled her eyes. “Really Gan, you come out with the most ridiculous statements. Did you miss the part where I’ve given birth to  _six_  of your children so far? All I’m asking for is a break.”

“For how long?” He asked, still frowning.

She shrugged. “Well, I’m not sure. A year, for starters-”  
“A  _year!?”_

Zelda narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Yes. You don’t seem to realise what a strain it is to be pregnant like I have been. It’s hard work, constructing an entirely new human, and that doesn’t even bring into account the morning sickness, the sore backs, the mood swings, not being able to eat and drink certain things, cravings, getting your liver kicked black and blue, not being able to sleep because the baby is practicing gymnastics at three in the morning, and not to mention the pain of childbirth, and the risk of complications.” She finished this off with a glare. “It’s painful and long and hard, and while I cherish each of my children, I refuse to go through that again just yet.”

“So that’s it?” Ganondorf said rather sullenly, and she rolled her eyes mentally. Really, he could be such a child when he didn’t get his own way. “You don’t want any more children.”

Zelda sniffed. “Ungrateful bastard. Gan, we have six wonderful children. Isn’t that enough? Aren’t they good enough for you?”

She found herself flat on her back then, Ganondorf looming menacingly over her. “Don’t imply I find my children lacking.” He growled. “I simply want a large family, that’s all.”

“Six  _is_  a large family.” She pointed out, and he rolled his eyes in disgust.

“Maybe to you. But I want more.”

“And you can have more.” She relented, and backpedalled as his eyes lit up. “ _Maybe_. That is, I’m having a break first. I’m perfectly fine with the six I already have, but if you insist upon more, we can talk about it in the future. I have enjoyed building this family with you, but you can’t just take my body and use it for your own goals without my say. Maybe I’ve rather let you, and perhaps that makes it my fault, but I do have my limits. It’s  _my_  body,  _I_  have to suffer through the pregnancy,  _I_  have to give birth, and therefore, I am  _having a break.”_

Ganondorf frowned rather unhappily at his wife, latching onto a key word in her speech. “Suffering? You call it  _suffering_  to bear my children?”

He frowned harder when Zelda rolled her eyes.

“Gan, you’ve never been pregnant. You  _don’t_  know what its like.” She said in that tone she employed when she was trying to, in her words, ‘get it through his thick skull’. “Being pregnant is  _hard_  and  _miserable_  and  _painful_. What don’t you understand about that?”

He considered things for a moment. She was right – he’d never been pregnant… and Hylian women were softer then Gerudo ones. They didn’t expect to bear as many children. “Alright… so maybe I’ve been a little unfair.” He allowed. “Maybe I’ve pushed you-”

Ganondorf cut himself off as Zelda rolled her eyes. “ _Pushy_  is one word for it.” She muttered.

“So… you want a break.”

“ _Yes_.” She said emphatically. Zelda’s eyes softened then, and she laid her hand on his cheek again. This time, however, he didn’t push her away. “I knew you’d object, that you’d even be offended by it, so my original plan was to take the tonic and simply let you believe it was just… taking longer than usual.”

“So what changed?” Ganondorf asked suspiciously, picking up on the fact that while she may have told him, she clearly hadn’t meant to.  _Yet_ , apparently.

She shrugged lightly. “It feels like lying, and I don’t really want to lie to you about something as important to you as your children.”

He found himself liking her words now; Zelda was certainly kind and considerate in this lifetime. Ganondorf thanked his lucky stars he’d married this incarnation and not one of the horrible, cold unfeeling ones. “My children  _are_  important to me. I’m glad you feel this way, Zel.”

She smiled again. “I meant what I said, Gan. I’m perfectly content to be content with the six wonderful children we already have. May I ask why, exactly, you feel the need to increase such an exorbitant number already?”

Ganondorf frowned as he considered this. “In the desert, as you know, mortality rates,  _infant_  mortality rates, are very high. Even if the child survives the birth, there are many,  _many_  things that will kill a child before they are grown. These range from physical dangers: sandstorms, sunstroke, getting lost, dehydration, the monsters that lurk in the dunes, to the less physical but equally dangerous: disease, lack of medical knowledge, unsanitary conditions, malnutrition, simply being soft and weak. Life in the desert is hard, Zelda. Very hard. It is sort of… drummed into us from a young age that if our culture is to survive, we must ensure our population doesn’t die out. Childbirth is painful and risky,  _I know that,_  you don’t need to tell me. It’s more so in the sand, but… we all know how important it is that our population survives, so we aim for large families, to see as many young survive to adulthood as we can, no matter the risk.”

“Is the risk really so high?” Zelda whispered, that damned annoying light appearing in her eyes that arrived whenever she was going to be especially logical. “It’s easy to be abstract about such things, but how can you be sure-”

Ganondorf cut her off in irritation. “We have a rule of thumb at home; for every sister we have, at least two more didn’t make it.”

Zelda’s brows furrowed in both thought and sympathy as she considered his words, and Ganondorf frowned hard, drawn for a moment into memories. He himself had lost three blood sisters; he didn’t remember them, for he’d been two when the second had been killed by snakebite, one elder sister had been stillborn, the other found dead in her cradle one day. It was presumed that the spirits had gotten her. His mother had then died in childbirth with her fifth child – his younger sister Ailero, who had lived.

“I can see your reasoning.” Zelda began quietly, drawing him back into the present. “And I respect it, please don’t think I wouldn’t. I just… Hyrule is a much safer environment for raising children. We’ve discussed this before, you  _know_  this. Most people have one or two children, and simply take it for granted that they will live.” She paused again. “When you put it in perspective against your people, it seems very unfair.”

Ganondorf barely stopped a snarl. Why did the daft woman think he continually invaded Hyrule? This wretched Kingdom’s prospects were so much better than his own, damn them all – he wanted  _their_  prosperity for  _his_  people. Well, sort of. At least, that was  _one_ of the reasons. “Doesn’t it now.”

“Yes.” Zelda continued, seemingly unaware of his irritation. She did this a lot – most of Wisdom’s incarnations had done this a lot. They took some new information, had some sort of epiphany, then proceed to monologue about it for a while, completely oblivious to anything else while they examined the ins and outs of whatever they were thinking of. He supposed this was part of Wisdom; Zelda had to examine every aspect, turn it over in her mind and uncover every truth, detail and hidden angle before she could accept it. It was just unfortunate that a lot of the time, Wisdom’s bearers felt the need to do it out loud.

“Like I said, I understand your reasoning, but consider mine. Hyrule is much safer, and like it or not, you can’t deny it.” A worried expression crossed her face. “You don’t think that rule of thumb will apply to our children, do you?”

Ganondorf could see why she was worried; he pictured his six children in his mind and tried to imagine two of them dead. It was rather an unthinkable thought. Of course, he’d suffered the loss of his children before, and he definitely refused to have that happen again. While there were times he wished he could raise his children properly, as Gerudo in his ancestral home, he had to admit he liked the certainty of his children’s survival here. “No, I don’t. Not here, anyway.”

She looked very relieved. “Thank goodness for that.” Zelda looked down, clearly arranging her thoughts, and he occupied himself with fiddling with the lace on her nightgown.

“Hmm.” Ganondorf nodded at her. “Back to this  _tonic_  business-” He sneered the word. “-You really feel it necessary? You mightn’t fall pregnant right away.”

To his surprise, Zelda raised a brow and scoffed, looking distinctly unimpressed. “You’ve said that before, you know. In my naivety, I listened to  _you_ , instead of relying on my medial books and Mother Raimli’s advice, and look where it got me! Three children in a row, all conceived within three or four months of birth. That was rather foolish of me, I admit, but for Niruni, Aela, and Reeva, you beat me to the punch. I’ve attempted to use the tonic for a few years now, but  _you_ , you stupidly persuasive man, got me into bed before it worked, and I’ll not terminate my children.” Zelda mock narrowed her eyes at him. “Either that means it’s actually a lot easier to fall pregnant than I was led to believe, or you just happen to be exceptionally,  _ridiculously_  virile.”

Ganondorf couldn’t help the smug and very pleased smirk that spread across his features. “I like the second option.” He seriously objected to the fact that she had tried to prevent the conception of their last three children, and thanked himself for being so  _persuasive_. 

“You would.”

Zelda grinned at her husband as he preened; he did like it whenever she boosted his ego.  _Not that it needs boosting,_  she thought to herself. He seemed to have accepted her reasoning for taking the tonic, or so she hoped, and decided to probe for his true feelings on the subject.

“So… I hope you can see why I want to take the tonic?” She asked cautiously, and watched as his expression became rather grave.

“I can see it.” Ganondorf said finally. “I don’t like it much, but I can see why you’d want to take it.” The Gerudo King frowned then. “But… if you were so opposed to the idea of having children with me, why didn’t you speak up? I hope you feel as though I forced you.”

Zelda instantly clambered into his lap, pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth. “No, of course I don’t think you forced me, and don’t be ridiculous; this is not me saying I don’t wish to have children with you. You are so quick to be offended; it’s almost funny.” She felt a violent blush overtake her cheeks, and she avoided his gaze. “Following Niruni’s birth, I had to plot my – cycles –”  _that_  was a hard thing to say before a man – “and work out the best time to take the tonic, then allow it time to work. But like I said, you beat me to the punch. You’re very –  _compelling_. You muddle me up and make me forget things when you touch me.”

Looking up, she found Ganondorf looking very pleased indeed. “I like the sound of that.” He murmured. “But it won’t work this time?”

“No.” She gasped; Ganondorf had apparently decided this was a good a time as ever to tease her, and his fingers had risen to her breasts, gently circling her nipples. “The tonic has had time to work; I can’t fall pregnant now.”

“Hmph.” Clever fingers pinched her nipples slightly, and Zelda bit her lip, sliding her hands along his arms. “You’re really determined to wait a year?”

“Well.” She began, shifting her hips slightly against his as his motions began to awaken her need for him. “I’m not convinced we need more children.” Seeing the affronted and indignant look in his eyes, she sighed and relented. “Pick a date, write it on your calendar. In a year, we can discuss it again, but I absolutely refuse to even consider it until then.”

Ganondorf nodded in reluctant agreement as he slipped her nightgown from her shoulders. 

“I should think you’d be pleased.” Zelda continued, determined to show Ganondorf the bright side of the whole situation and stop his moping before it started. “You realise I don’t have any reason to put you off anymore.”

That got his attention. “Do you mean to say-” he began, eyes gleaming wickedly, “that I can have you  _whenever_  I want now? No dragging your feet?”

Zelda foresaw a dangerous situation and sought to avoid it by laying down some ground rules. “So long as we are in an  _acceptable_  time and place, and it’s not interrupting anything, I suppose I don’t really have a reason to say no.”

Ganondorf now looked extremely pleased with himself, and in a trice she found herself flat on her back as he loomed over her. “I am very glad of that.” He growled against her collarbone, and Zelda felt a thrill of excitement run through her. His lips met hers firmly and she sighed against his mouth; now she could enjoy being bedded by her husband without the risk of falling pregnant too soon. Relief flowed through her at that; finally, she could be assured of time, a year at least, during which she could be assured of no morning sickness, no swollen ankles, no kicking, none of the general discomfort that came with pregnancy. She could rest, recover, recuperate, and get used to having her body to herself again. She could just enjoy herself. With that in mind Zelda gave herself to him entirely, spreading her thighs and looping her arms around Ganondorf’s neck as she dug her nails into his shoulders.

He growled in delight, tongue invading her mouth even as he settled between her legs and ground his erection against her. Ganondorf left her mouth then, pulling back and down, scoring his fangs down her throat, and there he focused his efforts, nipping her skin and tasting her throat, biting down firmly and lapping softly at the blood drawn.

As good as it felt, Zelda decided she didn’t like this position, and so, to Ganondorf’s general befuddlement, she wiggled out from underneath him. Curious to see if she could rile him up, she slid from the bed, turned around, and let her nightgown slip to the ground as seductively as she knew how, giving him an arch look over her shoulder. It didn’t take long to work; she’d barely stepped out of her puddled gown before Ganondorf’s arms closed around her, lifting her from her feet and carrying her across the room to the nearest wall, which she found herself pressed up against in no time flat.

“ _Temptress_.” Ganondorf snarled, eyeing the woman with her legs currently wrapped around his waist. Zelda only gave him a smirk, the kind of one that always made his blood boil with the need to prove himself to her. Well, no time like the present; Zelda’s fingers were already stroking over the hard lump in his trousers, busily untying the laces. He had to bite back a groan when she finally took his cock in hand; technically, she’d pleasured him with her hand or her mouth during her confinement, before and after giving birth to Rivariku when she either couldn’t or wouldn’t bed him, but now? Knowing he could take her completely once more? Well, he couldn’t stand much more of this, or the show would be over before it began. 

Ganondorf seized his Queen’s hands and pulled them up over her head, leaning down to kiss her savagely in the process, smirking against her lips at her moan. Rearranging his grip on her hands so both of hers were in one of his, he trailed the other down her body until he reached her slick core, biting back a groan at how wet she was. Sliding two fingers inside her, Ganondorf kissed Zelda harder, swallowing her moans and cries as he found her sweet spot and began to stroke her firmly, his fingers upping their speed as they dipped in and out of her slick entrance, making her cries louder and higher in pitch as her thighs began to tremble.

Now fully focused on making her come, Ganondorf found her sensitive clit and began to circle it with his thumb, making her jerk and shudder in his grasp. Zelda broke their kiss as she threw her head back, and he snarled under his breath as he watched her body undulating, her breasts heaving as she clenched around his fingers. He could tell from her breathing she was close, and stroked her in the way she liked best, smirking as she let out a broken, high pitched wail, and then she shattered around his fingers, making him groan in anticipation of being inside her wetness once more.

Zelda’s eyes fluttered open to the very pleasant view of a nude Gerudo King. She smiled contentedly at him, feeling quite relaxed from her climax, until his fingers slipped between her legs and had her arching her hips once more. Biting her lip, she tugged at her restrained hands until she managed to pull one free, which she thrust between them to capture Ganondorf’s hard cock, stroking him firmly and distracting him, and hopefully, goading him into taking her sooner rather than later.

“Please.” She moaned – that always had an effect on him. “ _Please_.”

Zelda heard him snarl against her ear, and managed to smirk smugly before her breath was torn from her throat with a cry as he buried his length deep inside her, pushing her hard up against the wall. Having been deprived of intercourse for some time now, the feeling of having him inside her once more was sublime, and Zelda felt her eyes flutter shut as Ganondorf moved within her, driving her higher with each stroke.

Ganondorf snarled harshly as he felt his climax creeping up on him. Zelda felt so  _good_ around him, and he drove into her deeper, seeking to bury himself within her wet heat as far as he could go. Her inner walls were contracting around him, massaging his cock in the most addicting fashion; it was so good to be able to be inside his wife once more. As it was, he knew he wasn’t going to last long with her long legs wrapped around his waist, her breasts bouncing in front of his nose and her sweet voice in his ear. Growling, he thrust into her hard, once, twice, three times, relishing her cry as she exploded, her slick inner muscles pulling him deeper and driving him to his own peak.

He groaned deeply into her hair, grinding himself as close as possible to his wife as she shuddered around him, heightening both of their pleasure as they came down from the clouds.

“Mmm.”

Ganondorf peeled himself out of Zelda’s hair to find her smiling up at him in a very relaxed fashion, and then thoroughly enjoyed the sound she made as she stretched luxuriously against him, then pulled herself up for a kiss.

“That was nice.” She murmured against his mouth, but Ganondorf found himself too preoccupied by her lips to respond. When they broke apart, Zelda turned in his grip to inspect her shoulders; there were impressions and the faint shadow of bruises from the rough stone wall already marking her delicate skin, and he smirked at her as she stretched again, making a face.

“I’m going to be sore in the morning.” She said with a grimace, poking at a purplish shadow on her shoulder.

“You’d best have a nice hot bath.” Ganondorf said, seeing an opportunity as he hefted her a little higher, then carried her towards her bathing chambers.

“That does sound nice.” Said Zelda, and then she mock narrowed her eyes. “Wait a minute – this is just another excuse for you to bed me again, isn’t it?”

Ganondorf chuckled as he pushed open the door. “You did say I could have you  _whenever_  I please.”

Zelda sighed as he waded into the steaming hot water, the springs deep within the castle foundations providing perfectly hot water as usual. “I may regret saying that, but you know what? I also don’t think I will.”

“You won’t.” Ganondorf snickered, pulling her closer in the water. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“At least it will be free of consequences.” She said with a wicked grin, and Ganondorf grinned.

“If the trade off for this break of yours means more sex, then you won’t find me objecting.” A slight frown crept across his features. “Much.”

Zelda giggled slightly as she lifted herself up so her lips met his, and then there were no more words between them, just sensation.


	11. Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda is attacked, which causes her to have a miscarriage, and Ganondorf tortures the man who did it.

Ganondorf walked through the doors and into the Great Hall in quite a good mood. He’d just returned from a series of meetings held in Acerose to discuss trade, and the negotiations had gone well. Striding through the throngs of people, he noticed their anxious expressions and then dismissed them; Hylians were always worrying about something or other, it was beneath his notice.

He wondered where Zelda was; she would no doubt wish him to inform her in great detail how the meetings had gone; she had wanted to go but remained behind because the dates of the negotiations had collided with Castle Town’s annual garden show, and as their most important patroness, Zelda had felt honour bound to attend.

At that moment, childish shouting drew his attention. A second later, a very agitated Safieta collided with his legs.

“Papa!” She shouted, using the Gerudo word. Ganondorf bent down and picked up the almost eight year old, and was about to greet her when he realised she was upset. Very upset. Walking towards the nearest doorway, he asked her what was wrong.

“Mama!” Cried Saffie, her lower lip trembling. “Mama got hurt-”

“What?” He very nearly shouted, then restrained himself. “Saffie, what happened?”

“Mama was at the garden show, we all went too, and a man hit her and made her fall down and she wouldn’t wake up-”

Ganondorf’s blood ran cold, but he recognised the need to calm the little girl down; she was nearly hysterical.

“Saffie, calm down. Did you see it?”

Saffie nodded, tears now making their way down her cheeks. “Uh huh. Mama fell and we tried to wake her up but she wouldn’t wake up!” Saffie furrowed her brow. “She was making funny noises for a bit, then stopped.”

Ganondorf picked up his pace, through where he was going, he wasn’t sure. “What kind of noises?” He growled.

“Like… that time I hit Ralon in his tummy in training and it made him not breathe well for a bit. Like that, Papa.”

Gritting his teeth, he dried Saffie’s tears and tried to control the anger churning around in his stomach. “When was this?”

“Yesterday.”

“Where’s Mama now?”

Saffie sniffled, her Gerudo nearly unintelligible through her tears. “Everyone was screaming and the guards came and got Mama and took her away, and then nurse came and got us and put us in the nursery and we haven’t seen Mama yet. Nurse doesn’t know if Mama’s okay!”

At this, Saffie was overcome, and the little girl buried her face in his neck and sobbed. Ganondorf bared his fangs at nothing in particular, then called his magic and warped back to the nursery. The instant he arrived he was assailed by numerous small children, and he knelt down to greet them all in turn; the older children all looked scared, and thankfully, the younger ones didn’t seem to know what was going on.

The nurse appeared, and shrank back at the expression of fury on his face.

“Where is the Queen?” Ganondorf asked quietly, and the woman wrung her hands in her apron.

“I-I believe they took her to her chambers, your Majesty.” Quavered the woman, and he nodded.

“Keep the children here.”

With that, he warped out of the room, reappearing in his bedchamber. Striding over to the door, Ganondorf wrenched it open to find the circular chamber full of various healers and medical paraphernalia. They all curtsied hurriedly when they saw him.

“Your Majesty-”

“Where’s the Queen?” He snapped, interrupting them. “What happened to her?”

“She’s asleep.” Said one of the junior healers, and Ganondorf relaxed infinitesimally. Zelda was alive, at least. “She’s in her bedchamber.”

“What happened?” He growled. Why was no one telling him the story?

“She was attacked at the garden show.” Said one of the more senior healers, a middle aged woman in a red smock. “I’m not sure of the man’s motives, none of us are, but it seems he had with him a club of some sort, and he hit the Queen with it. She fell and hit her head on the cobbles and was rendered unconscious. The guards brought her back here, and we’ve been working to heal her Majesty.”

Ganondorf nodded angrily, stroking his beard. “But she’ll be all right?”

The healers exchanged nervous glances, and he narrowed his eyes at them. “What?”

The woman in the red smock spoke again. “I’m very sorry, your Majesty.”

Those were ominous words if he’d ever heard them. “What?” He snarled, and the healer visibly flinched.

“The loss you’ve suff-”

The smocked healer cut herself off when the junior one elbowed her. “The Queen didn’t know either!” The girl hissed, and Ganondorf felt his lips lift off his teeth.

‘Loss?’ What did this miserable woman mean by ‘loss?’ “Didn’t know what?” He asked very precisely.

The red smocked woman took a deep breath before she began. “When the Queen was brought here, we thought she only had a head injury, and that she’d been very severely winded – she took the impact with her midsection, we understand – but it soon became apparent that wasn’t all.”

The woman paused, and he could have strangled her for it.

“Get on with it.” He bit out, and she looked nervous.

“We – we found out that the Queen was pregnant.”

Ganondorf’s eyes widened a fraction, but otherwise, he was frozen solid. Pregnant. Suspicion coursed through him. Was pregnant. No… was the baby hurt?

“Her Majesty didn’t know either, it seems, and the force of the blow caused her to… miscarry.” The woman paused here and cringed at the look on his face. “Despite all our best efforts, Sire, um… I’m very sorry to say the Queen has lost her child.”

He stared, feeling quite unable to move. Zelda had been pregnant? She’d had a miscarriage? And now, their child was lost. Killed – no, murdered – by this man. Whoever he was.

“How far along was she?” He finally managed to get out.

“We couldn’t say for sure. Just… not very long. Too early for the Queen to know.”

“Does she know?”

She does.” Said the healer quietly. “She came around not long before she miscarried. She’s been… very upset. We had to sedate her. That’s why she’s still asleep.”

“She was hysterical?” He asked, fingers twitching at his sides. Where was the man now? That’s what he wanted to know.

“Sort of. The Queen was… very angry at first. It was all we could do to keep her in bed – if we’d let her out, she’d have gone to the dungeons and murdered her attacker herself.”

The dungeons. “That’s where the man is?” He growled darkly, and the healer nodded.

“I believe so, Sire. I heard some guards talking – I think they just put him in a cell to wait for your arrival.”

Ganondorf nodded, the urge for violence burning in his blood. “Send word to the nursery – no one’s told my children that their mother is alive – they’ve been very upset since they think she’s dead.”

The healers all paled beneath his anger, and Ganondorf ignored their words as they hastened to agree.

Without another word, he called his magic and sent himself whirling through space to land in the dungeons. Or at least, he meant to end up there; he changed his mind before he got there, and Ganondorf ended up materialising outside the Great Hall – seeking the familiar face he’d seen before Saffie accosted him.

Luca Carobi, Captain of the Guards, was deep in conversation with three of his men when their eyes widened simultaneously. Carobi had barely turned to see what they were looking at when he was jerked off his feet. The man scrabbled for a second before realising what was happening; the Gerudo King had him by the collar and was dragging him from the hall.

Oh, shit. Carobi ceased his struggles and simply watched, wide eyed and a little terror stricken, peering up at his King as the man dragged him along effortlessly. The Gerudo wasn’t even looking at him, and Carobi was very glad of that – the desert King’s teeth were locked in a ferocious snarl, his very form was shuddering with rage, and his normally golden eyes glowed crimson. The Captain’s stomach dropped down to his toes, and he swallowed hard. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the King was angry about; no doubt he’d been informed about the attack on the Queen.

Carobi wasn’t even walking as he was pulled along, his heels dragging on the ground – the King bore all of his weight in one hand, and the Captain found it a very curious sensation – being dragged like this was something he hadn’t experienced since he was a small child, and nerves settled into the pit where his stomach used to be – he very sincerely hoped the King wasn’t going to take his anger out on him. The second they were out of the Great Hall, Carobi felt himself being swung into the air, and the squawk of fear that left his throat was of a variety quite unbefitting a man of his rank. His feet swung desperately in the air nearly a metre above ground as the King pinned him to the wall by his throat.

Carobi struggled to breathe, and just when the King’s furious and far-too-close-for-comfort face began to blur, the grip on his neck lessened enough for him to take a few welcome gulps of air.

“Explain yourself.” Hissed the Gerudo, and Carobi desperately cast his mind around for a response. The King evidently expected him to explain something to do with the Queen being attacked – but which part in particular?

Evidently he took too long to reply, because Carobi found himself being shaken like a rag doll for a brief second.

“So the Queen was caught off guard.” Snarled King Ganondorf. “All right, it happens. What I want to know is how her attacker got close enough to her in the first place? Tell me, Captain – are your men to blame for this?”

Carobi felt fear – and determination. His men were not at fault. I hope. At the very least, he refused to have innocent men blamed.

“My men were as vigilant as they could be, Sire.” He gasped out. “But the garden show – it’s very large. Many, many people attend. It’s simply impossible to screen them all.”

“Then why was the Queen left unguarded?”

“Her Majesty insisted.” Carobi stuttered, feet still pedalling aimlessly in the air. “The Queen told us she’d be fine, that nothing would come of relaxing for an hour or two.”

Carobi refocused on King Ganondorf, who rolled his eyes.

“Feh. Of course she’d go and do something like that.” He muttered under his breath, and then his intense golden gaze burned a hole in Carobi’s soul once more. “But why did you heed her order? My orders were not to leave her unattended.”

“We tried.” Wheezed the Hylian Captain, feeling a little lightheaded. “But the Queen was determined to speak to people without guards in the way. She made us stand back while she mingled with the crowd.”

The Gerudo King opened his hand abruptly, and Carobi very suddenly found himself plummeting to the floor. He hit the stone and bounced, then scrambled to his feet as the King’s footsteps drew closer, and pulled him off his feet again.

“When we get to the dungeons.” Snarled the King. “You will show me to her attacker at once.”

Carobi managed to make an affirmative sound, and then Gerudo King began marching down the corridor, dragging him along by the collar. The Captain swallowed hard as the Desert Warlord didn’t even stop to open the door into the dungeon levels – he simply rammed his shoulder into the timber with an enormous crash and strode through it.

A short walk down the hallway brought Carobi and the Gerudo King to the guard’s common room – the men all scrambled to their feet as King Ganondorf tossed Carobi forwards. The Captain found himself sailing into the air and descending to crash on the table, scattering the card game in progress – he paused for a moment to wonder about his King’s strength; why, the man had barely exerted any force, and was still able to throw a full grown man around like a doll – but he snapped to attention when the King spoke.

“Key.” He snarled. “Now.”

Carobi scuttled over to the pegboard on which the cell keys were hung; grabbing the correct one, he scrambled over to one of four doors, each one leading to a different row of cells.

“This way, your Majesty.” He got out, turning and almost running down the corridor in an effort not to get run over by the King, whose long strides made it quite hard to match his speed. Carobi stopped outside the correct cell.

“This is it, Sire.” He said, turning to place the key in the lock so he didn’t have to see the Gerudo King’s terrifying expression. Carobi locked eyes with the unfortunate inmate through the grill and grimaced; the man was going to die, and horribly. He got the door unlocked and swung it open, stepping back and inclining his head respectfully.

“Your Majesty.” He murmured, and the King spoke as he was stepping into the cell.

“Go back to your offices, Captain. There ought to be some documents there; I want you fully briefed by the time I get there.”

“Of course, Majesty.” Carobi replied, and then he booked it out of there as fast as he could without actually running. Still, he wasn’t fast enough to miss the first part of the King and the inmate’s conversation.

“I didn’t think you’d care enough to come here yourself.” Said the prisoner who’d had the temerity to attack the Queen, his voice sounding defiant. Carobi just knew the man was going to pay for it in the most painful of ways.

“I dare say there’s a lot of things you didn’t think.” Snarled the King, and then the screaming started.

If you had asked Peta Lorgnon, second Guardsman in the twelfth division, currently assigned guard duty in the dungeons, what he thought he’d have been doing on a fine Saturday afternoon such as this, he would not have expected to be sitting in a common area with three other guards, listening to the hapless agonised screams of a man being tortured by the Demon King.

He and his fellow guards could hear it all; the stone walls made for excellent acoustics, and the individual sounds of torture were so clear it was as though they were in the cell as well. Though, thought Peta to himself, the mental picture is quite enough already.

As well as the screaming of the victim, they could hear the Demon King speaking, sometimes in Hylian, sometimes in Gerudo, always vicious. Peta flinched slightly as the distinct sound of wet tearing reached his ears; clearly, the King was ripping some part of the prisoners flesh. Bile rose in his throat as unwelcome and unwanted mental pictures swam around in his mind, imagining exactly which part had just torn.

Peta’s gaze locked with his fellow guard Alon, just as the hideous snap of broken bone echoed up the passageway, followed by a ragged scream. The Demon King had been in there nearly an hour, and Peta found it almost mind boggling that the King was still finding parts of the man he hadn’t broken already.

The prisoner was crying brokenly now, his voice much weaker and ragged from screaming than it had been at the beginning, where he had been shouting defiantly at the Demon King; whether that was brave or incredibly foolish, Peta wasn’t sure. Finally, there was silence; Peta and the other guards fidgeted nervously at the thought of what that might mean, when the door swung wide to reveal the Desert King.

Peta thought his eyes might fall out of his head; the King was fairly covered with blood and – other things, his hands dripping with the stuff, his golden eyes dark with fury, the cruel mouth turned in a pleased smirk – Peta’s stomach churned at the thought. The King had enjoyed it.

“Get in there and patch him up.” Barked King Ganondorf, casually tossing a blood covered key at Lomo. “He’d best still be alive when I come back for him tomorrow, for your sakes.”

Peta, Alon, and the other two guards all exchanged petrified glances as the door swung shut behind the Demon King. Alon took point, Sam held the medical kit, Lomo held the key, and Peta lagged behind as they trooped up the hall, unwilling to see what he would see.  
Lomo unlocked the cell door as Peta carefully averted his vision; Alon lasted nearly ten seconds before he staggered out and emptied the contents of his guts all over his shoes. Through the open door, Peta caught sight of the puddled and dripping blood, the torn flesh and battered form, the shards of shattered fresh bone lying on the floor, the pool of urine and the smell – the prisoner had emptied his bowels at some point. And I don’t blame him, thought Peta, as his lunch joined Alon’s on the floor.

Zelda woke to a pounding headache and a dull pain deep in her midsection. There were a few blissful seconds in which she didn’t recall what had happened to her, and then… she didn’t quite recall what had happened, only that something had. She felt… quite peculiar, very dreamy and insubstantial. Dimly, she recalled Mother Raimli forcibly shoving some kind of potion down her throat; a sedative, she decided. That would explain how misty she felt.

She experimented with moving her hand; each finger felt like it had rocks in it, and she focused on curling her fingers together into a fist; it took a few long minutes, but she managed it. Feeling tired, Zelda let her eyes fall closed; she’d just rest for a moment, then she’d ring for someone…

Zelda was staring at the ceiling before she realised she was awake. Her head still hurt and her midsection ached, but she had clarity of mind back. She bit her lip hard as her hand came up to brush over her stomach; no little one grew there now.

Slight movement caught her eye, and Zelda looked over to see Ganondorf asleep in an armchair in what was quite possibly the most uncomfortable looking position ever. She cleared her throat and tried to call him, but her voice was weak and hoarse; she needed water. Frowning slightly as she wondered how to wake him, Zelda grinned through cracked lips as she hit upon an idea; she called her magic and floated one of her decorative pillows over to her husband and dropped it on his head. She had to do that three times before he woke up, but they got there eventually.

There was a moment where Ganondorf caught the pillow and stared at it confusedly; Zelda tried to say his name again and caught his attention. His eyes widened as he lurched up off the chair and was at her side in an instant.

“Zelda.” Ganondorf touched her cheek softly. “Are you all right?”

Silly question, she thought, then reconsidered. What if he hadn’t yet been told about the baby?

“Water.” She croaked out. “C-can I have some water?”

She’d have gotten the drink herself with magic, except for the fact there was no pitcher in the room; looking around, Ganondorf appeared to have come to the same conclusion.  
“Of course.” He said, standing up. “I won’t be long.”

True to his word, Ganondorf was back very shortly, striding back into the room with the water jug from his chambers. He filled a cup and brought it to her, and Zelda drank gratefully. She could feel something on her head, and put a hand up to investigate; her fingers came in contact with… gauze? Her questioning look made Ganondorf take her hand and lower it back to her side.

“Do you remember what happened?” He asked, quite cautiously she thought. He seemed to be treating her as through she were some fragile porcelain; one touch and she’d shatter.

Zelda winced, trying to recall. “Not really.” Her voice was still hoarse, so she took another sip of water. “I remember… the garden show – I was talking to someone and then there was the most awful pain… I couldn’t breathe.” She bit her lip. “Do you know what happened? When did you get back?”

“I arrived back a few hours ago only to be accosted by Saffie, who was just about out of her mind with worry. No one told them that you were even alive.”

“What!?” Zelda tried to sit up, but Ganondorf pushed her back down again. “Do they know now? That I’m okay?”

“Yes, I’ve told them, I’ve been in to see them a few times.” A shadow crossed his face. “After dealing with some things. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

Zelda looked down. “Did they… tell you?”

She laid her hand on her belly, giving him a significant look. Grief and rage warred across his face, and when Ganondorf laid his hand across hers, she had her answer.

“They did then.” She said quietly. Zelda took a deep shuddering breath and tightened her grip on his fingers. “My baby.” Her voice broke.

Ganondorf snarled under his breath. “You needn’t worry about the man that did this, Zelda. He’s been… taken care of.”

“Did you kill him?” She asked, closing heavy eyelids.

“Not yet. I haven’t given him that mercy. Besides, not all my questions have been answered.”

Zelda considered this. Ganondorf’s tone was ugly, and she could a few flecks of blood on his neck where he’d evidently missed them while cleaning up; he must have tortured the man. She felt a twinge of horror for the pain the man would have endured, but then as she thought of the child he had made her lose, anger and spite spiked through her. Ganondorf had hurt this man? Good.

‘Do you know why he hit me?” She whispered dully. This was a question that had been bouncing around her mind since she’d initially woken up after being attacked.

Ganondorf’s eyes glowed with rage. “He’s only some minor grunt.” He said curtly. “Sent to carry out the orders of some bastard who wants to punish me.” He sounded quite disgusted with this, and Zelda frowned slightly.

“Punish you? But why-”

“Evidently, these people have surmised that I would not like to see you hurt.” Ganondorf’s eyes darkened with rage. “That someone would stoop so low – to attack family in order to hurt someone – not even I would do such a cowardly thing.”

Zelda smiled slightly, and raised her hand to his jaw. “No, you’re much too direct for that.” Her smile faded. “But – if these people will target me, what about the children?”

Ganondorf nodded. “I’ve thought of that.” He took her hand from his cheek and kissed her palm. “I’ve already threatened Carobi within an inch of his life. Our children will be protected.”

She raised a brow. “You don’t need to do that. Carobi’s a good man. He’s faithful to the throne.”

The Gerudo simply shrugged. “I have always found fear to be a better motivator than any goodness of heart.”

“But fear will not inspire loyalty.”

Ganondorf scowled. “I don’t want his loyalty – I want his obedience.”

Zelda sighed. “Very well, I can see we disagree there, and I don’t think this is the time to be discussing the ethics of this.”

“No, I agree.”

“So – who ordered this man to attack me?”

Ganondorf’s eyes glowed with anger – and irritation. “I – don’t know. Yet. Either this man has truly never seen them, or he has been trained exceptionally well in withstanding torture.”

Of course Ganondorf would consider it a personal insult when his torture skills weren’t up to scratch. Zelda almost smiled at how put out he sounded.

“He did say that he didn’t know you were pregnant, and that his masters would be angry with him, because it would make you look more sympathetic.”

Zelda squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “I would rather have my baby then be a sympathetic figure.”

Ganondorf’s fingers brushed over her cheek in the darkness, and she turned her face towards him, and opened her eyes. Guilt tugged her belly, and though she tried to ignore it, it was a truth she couldn’t deny.

“My fault.” She whispered.

Ganondorf stared at his wife, her agonised expression cutting at him to the quick. Her fault? Did she mean that by telling the guards to leave her side, she’d caused this man to attack her? Foolish woman.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He said curtly, standing and striding around to the other side of the bed, where he climbed atop the covers and pulled her – very gently – into his arms. “It’s not your fault. If anything, it’s the fault of those bloody idiot guards for actually listening when you dismissed them.”

Zelda pressed her face into his throat, and Ganondorf stroked her limp hair gently. She looked terrible; her face drawn and hollow, with dark shadows under her eyes, fading salve-covered scratches down one cheek, leading from under the gauze that wrapped her head wound.

“Two things are my fault, then.” He heard her whisper, and he frowned in confusion.

“Two things? Zelda, what’s the first?” He frowned harder, trying to figure out what she meant.

She played with a strand of his hair for a moment. “I… I made us wait.” She said softly, and he could very clearly hear the pain in her voice. “I made us wait, Gan. If I hadn’t, we’d have had this baby by now. She – or he – wouldn’t be dead.” He voice broke on the last word, and Ganondorf’s brows drew together in recognition of her words.

A little over four months ago, it had been time for them to discuss the matter of having another child. Zelda had been quite content with their six children, and had wished to continue taking her contraceptive tonic, but he’d managed to change her mind. He wanted at least eight children, though he hadn’t told her that, precisely. So Zelda had got it into her head that by taking contraceptives and delaying the conception of their seventh child, she’d thrown that child into the path of her attacker by the timing of her pregnancy. Ridiculous. She couldn’t have known. It was not her fault.

“That’s not very logical, Zel.” He said quietly. “You couldn’t have known what would happen.”

“I don’t care if it’s logical or not.” She sniffled, and he blinked in surprise. Clearly, the pain of being mother who’d lost her child was affecting her quite deeply.  
“That doesn’t sound like you.” He murmured.

No reply.

Ganondorf took a moment to think and tried again. “Zelda, this isn’t your fault. You didn’t even want a seventh child.”  
She inhaled sharply and curled closer, hiding her face. “It is one thing-” She said icily. “-to say you don’t want to have a child, and another entirely to lose it.”

He couldn’t deny that.

Zelda scrunched up her nose as she tried desperately not to cry, wedging her face into the comforting hollow at the base of his neck, and tried to think happy thoughts. It didn’t really work; all she could think about was how her child would have been born, would be alive, if only she hadn’t insisted on her break.

“I didn’t even get a chance to know I was pregnant.” She whispered, her voice dangerously close to a sob. “I didn’t get one second with my baby – until it was too late.”

Ganondorf’s arms tightened around her. “I will make them pay.” He promised, his tone dark and violent.

“I know.” She whispered.

“Do you… want anything?” He asked, a note of concern in his voice. “The healers? More water?”

Zelda raised her face so she could meet his gaze. “My children; I need to see them.”

Ganondorf nodded. “I’ll get them now.”

She held him tightly for a moment, then let go; Ganondorf slid from the bed and kissed her knuckles, before warping out of the room. She was left alone with her thoughts for a few minutes, which gave her a chance to sort through her feelings. He was right; self-blame wasn’t logical, and her reasons for having a break in the first place were valid and just. No, Zelda knew she couldn’t exactly blame herself for this; and it was peculiar – she hadn’t really wanted a seventh child, but Ganondorf had persuaded her to do it – he said that seventh was enough for him, but she had a feeling once seven was born, that number would go up to eight.

Still, the feeling of guilt persisted. What she had said before was true; saying you didn’t want another child was very different from losing one. Zelda touched her belly wistfully, imagining the little life that had been growing there, only to be snatched away from her. Grief almost made her feel sick – no, she hadn’t particularly wanted this child when she could have had it, but now that she couldn’t, there was nothing she wanted more.

At that moment, the door opened, interrupting her reverie. Saffie and Ciery were the first in the door; they both ran for the bed and clambered up. Ralon came next, holding Niruni’s hand; the five year old looked quite teary, though why, Zelda wasn’t sure. Saffie burst into tears the moment she got onto the bed, and Ciery followed suite a second later and both girls toppled over and buried their faces in her neck.

“Oh, my darlings, don’t cry.” Zelda said, rubbing their backs soothingly. “I’m fine, you don’t need to cry.”

They pulled back slightly but cuddled up close as she held out a hand for her little boy. She kissed Ralon’s forehead as he helped Niruni clamber up; the little girl happily snuggled down besides her and wiped her tears, and Zelda stroked her soft ginger hair gently. Bringing up the rear was Ganondorf carrying Aela and Rivariku – Aela was reaching eagerly for her mother, and Reeva was eating her fingers, looking nearly asleep.

Come to think of it, it was their naptime; Runi looked drowsy, and so did Aela, despite herself.

“Come here, my dearest.” Zelda said softly, holding out her hands for Aela; she cuddled the little girl briefly, then tucked her in besides Runi. Aela yawned contentedly and lay there, one chubby hand fisted in Zelda’s clothes. Ganondorf passed her Reeva next, the motion waking the child from her drowsiness; the toddler was a few months past her first birthday, and was bubbly and energetic. This was proved by little girl excitedly tearing herself out of her mother’s grip to jump and land squarely on Zelda’s stomach.

Ganondorf ripped Reeva off the bed in half a second flat as Zelda made a noise of pain and curled over her midsection, panting hard. For a few moments, she didn’t say anything, just breathed through the obvious pain. He held a squirming Reeva firmly, for the child didn’t understand what she’d done, and wanted to go back to her mother.

“Zelda?” He asked anxiously, grabbing her hand. “Are you alright? Should I fetch the healers?”

“No.” Replied Zelda weakly; she took a deep breath, and when she spoke again, her voice was steadier as she squeezed his fingers reassuringly. “No, I’m fine. I just… don’t let her do that again.” She shifted slightly, pushing herself to sit up straighter against the pillows, then ruffled Ralon’s hair, giving their children a smile. He could, however, tell that it was costing her a lot to act cheerful.

Reeva let out a wail, still trying to get back to her mother, and Zelda held out her hands for the child.

“Are you sure?” Ganondorf asked with raised brow.

“Positive.” Said Zelda.

Poised and ready to snatch back the toddler should she inadvertently hurt her mother again, Ganondorf sat carefully on the edge of the bed and watched as Zelda intercepted Reeva before she could bounce on her again, then tucked the child against her.

Zelda touched Ciery’s hand softly, smiling at her daughter. “Are you all okay?” She asked worriedly; she didn’t know how much the children had seen on the day of the garden show.

Ciery nodded, but Saffie sniffled. “Are you okay Mama?” She cried. “I saw that man hit you.” The little girl’s face crumpled, and Zelda immediately reached out and gathered her back into her side. Saffie tucked her face into her shoulder and cried while Zelda stroked her hair softly.

“Oh, pumpkin. I’m sorry you had to see that.” She whispered into her ear. “Did anyone else see?” She asked, reaching out to gather the older children closer. Ciery and Ralon both shook their head, and Zelda counted that as a blessing. Only Saffie had seen it.

“Mama’s hurt?” Piped up Runi suddenly, looking confused.

“I was, my darling.” Zelda said, then stroked the little girl’s hair softly. “But I’ll be alright soon.”

“Will you Mama?” Came Saffie’s muffled question, and she hugged her daughter closer.

“Of course I will. I’ll be up and about in no time at all. You needn’t worry.”

Ciery scrambled across the bed and into Ganondorf’s lap.

“Will Mama really be okay?” Zelda heard her ask.

Ganondorf gave her a searching look, and she met his gaze with a comforting smile and watched as he snuggled their daughter a little closer. “Yes, she will.”

Zelda held out a hand to Ralon, who was looking a little lonesome, and pulled the little boy closer. He lay down besides Saffie and snuggled up to her side, closing his eyes with a little sigh. Ralon could be quiet, but he was a sensitive little boy at the best of times, and she knew he’d be upset, but trying to hide it in front of his father; his worst fear was to make his papa think he wasn’t manly.

Reeva got up and wobbled over to Ganondorf, who scooped her into his lap next to Ciery, who was playing in his hair. Zelda smiled to see it as her youngest daughter stood on Ganondorf’s leg, trying to catch hold of his beard; he was just out of reach, and kept lowering his head to tease the child before straightening so she couldn’t capture him.

Stroking Ralon’s hair and Aela’s cheek, Zelda relaxed into the pillows, feeling a little better now that she had her children around her; they were equal parts distracting her from and reminding her of the child she’d lost. A content smile drifting onto her lips, she faded from consciousness without realising it.

Ganondorf was occupied in tickling Reeva – the little girl was giggling hysterically, and Ciery was busy plaiting his hair – when Ralon cried out.

“Mama? Mama!”

The Gerudo King looked up to find Ralon anxiously shaking his mother’s shoulder – and Zelda was slumped to one side, eyes closed, not moving. He nearly had a heart attack, but after he hastily dumped Ciery and Reeva back onto the bed and checked his wife’s pulse, he relaxed. Zelda was breathing and her pulse was steady; she’d simply fallen asleep.

“Come on you lot.” He whispered. “Let Mama sleep.”

After a wistful look at her mother, Ciery scrambled off the bed and stood next to him.

“Good girl, Cissy.” He murmured. “Get a move on, all of you.”

He had to manually remove Reeva, Aela and Runi, but the rest obeyed him and followed him back to the nursery. The nurse met him, and her assistant busied herself with tucking the younger children into bed for their naps while the older ones protested against sleeping.

“Um… If you don’t mind my asking, Sire, how is the Queen? She’s not been seriously harmed, I hope?” Asked the nurse a trifle nervously.

Ganondorf lifted his chin. “She’s asleep now.”

“But she’ll be okay?”

“She will.”

He was unwilling to mention the miscarriage; that was personal, and he would not discuss it with anyone, even if Zelda felt up to letting it be known publically. He made a mental note to speak with the healers and warn them to keep their traps shut.

After saying goodbye to each child, all of whom were in bed for their naps, he went back to Zelda’s chamber. She was awake, which surprised him, and very groggy. It took her a minute or two to even register his presence, and then she smiled and held out her hand. Dragging his chair over besides her bed, Ganondorf sat down. The simple act of holding hands with her seemed to him to be quite intimate and loving – it was something they did but rarely. Casting his gaze over her form, he furrowed his brow to think of it – he did love her. Yes, he could count the number of times they’d said it out loud on his fingers, but they didn’t need words to express it.

He could see it in her eyes, the curve of her lips when she looked at him, the way she touched him when they were alone – it made him feel slightly uncomfortable at times to register the depth and intensity of their emotion for each other, but one thing he did know for certain was this – he would not allow her to be hurt again. Any of his family. For the Goddess’ sake, Ralon had been abducted and nearly killed not even six months ago, and now this! Someone had actually succeeded in murdering one of his children. Unacceptable. It was unacceptable.

Wait.

What if… what if this was connected to the people who’d stolen his son and attempted to sacrifice him? That was because they didn’t want him to be King. He’d killed all who’d been present at the time, but… that didn’t mean he’d killed all who’d known about it, all who still wanted him off the throne.

“What are you thinking of?” Zelda asked, her fingers squeezing his lightly. “You look very preoccupied.”

Watching her beautiful face for a moment, hollow and tired looking as it was, Ganondorf decided to be only semi-truthful. Leaning in close to her ear, he let his lips brush her cheek.

“I will never allow anyone to hurt you again.”

“I appreciate that-” Zelda said softly. “-and I understand where it’s coming from, but please don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Ganondorf pulled back so he could see her face, confusion and insult running through him. “Do you not think I can?” He growled, the challenge of it burning through his veins. Did she think this was something he would take lightly?

“You misunderstand me.” Zelda said, trailing her fingers softly over his cheek. “You cannot tell what the future will bring. I simply don’t think it wise to provoke fate.”

There was brief silence as he considered these words, and then he scoffed. “I don’t care about fate; I’ve fought it and won.”

Zelda smiled. “Don’t say that too loudly; I’m sure Din would not object to a rematch.”

His grin slipped as he watched her. “I mean it, you know.”

Her fingers slid along his nose and over his lips. “I know.” She whispered. “I just don’t want you tempting fate. You seem to think you can do anything if you put your mind to it.”

Ganondorf frowned. “You think I cannot?” He inquired.

“No, I think you can do a great many things. I am naturally careful, you can’t blame me for cautioning you.”

Her smile faded completely then, and her hand fell back to the bedspread. “You don’t – blame me, do you?” She asked anxiously. “I – our baby-”

“Blame you?” Ganondorf stared at her in disbelief. “You’ve gone mad; of course I don’t blame you. I blame that creature in the dungeons, I blame his masters, but I certainly don’t blame you.”

Zelda smiled, then looked pensive and sad as her fingers brushed over her belly. “We’ll be okay.” She said, in a vague and slightly disturbing fashion. “Won’t we?”

Ganondorf kissed her knuckles. “Of course.”

His free hand found hers and their fingers laced together over the space where their child had once grown.

“I will find the person responsible for this, Zelda.” He said slowly. “I promise you that.”


	12. Cagono

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The easiest summary for this one is: Gan, you fucked up.
> 
> That is literally the only thing you can say to a guy who accuses his wife of infidelity not even two hours after she nearly dies giving birth to his eighth child.

Ganondorf paced anxiously in the circular chamber, awaiting news as Zelda’s cry of pain echoed into the room. She was currently giving birth to their eighth child, and he was waiting…. but it was taking a very long time, and he had something of a bad feeling about it.

He could hear the low murmuring of the healer’s voices through the wall but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Zelda cried out again, and he could hear her crying, and one healer trying to comfort her. The rest of their children were in the nursery, having been delivered there post haste when their mother went into labour. They had been practically bouncing off the walls from impatience, but that was almost forty hours ago – this birth was taking far longer than usual.

Ganondorf sank down in a chair and chugged the rest of his drink when suddenly the door burst open and a junior healer came tearing into the room, making him lurch to his feet. She crossed the room, seized the water jug, and was halfway back when she saw him and froze, eyes wide. The girl bobbed a curtsy as he frowned at her.

“Y-your Majesty.” She stammered, flicking a worried look over her shoulder through the door.

“What’s going on?” He inquired.

The girl looked even more upset. “The Queen – she’s in difficulties, Sire.” She started.

“Difficulties?” He growled, striding forwards. “Explain yourself.”

“She – it looks like a breech birth, Sire.”

A foreboding feeling settled in his gut. “And…?”

“The baby is the wrong way around, Sire. If – if we can’t get the child in the proper position then – it is likely that they will both die.”

He stared. What…? Zelda could die? Their child too?

“What?” He croaked.

The girl looked even more worried. “I-I must go, Sire. I have to assist the others.”

She curtsied again and darted through the door with the water, though he wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted it for. The door shut behind her and left him in turmoil – was she serious? Zelda wasn’t actually going to die, was she? She – she couldn’t.

Ack, why had he become so – so dependant on her? Wait, no – he seriously objected to the word ‘dependant’ – Ganondorf was not dependant on anyone. He merely – liked her company. And you love her, said the very annoying voice in the back of his mind. Yes, that too, he acknowledged. Quite reluctantly, he knew that despite his insistence that he didn’t need people around him, he also knew that he wanted her with him. He blinked and poured himself another drink.

The mother of his children… what would happen if she died? Ganondorf attempted to imagine running Hyrule without her… funnily enough, he found it was quite hard to picture. He snorted, annoyed with himself. The once hard-hearted Demon King, wanting the Princess of Hyrule to stay with him. Bloody ridiculous.

Well, whatever his own emotions, the thought of having to tell his children that their mother was no longer with them… Ganondorf fervently hoped that the healers knew what they were doing. He could still hear Zelda crying, and he focused on it – while it meant that she was in pain, it also meant she was alive.

Three hours later he was pacing again, very close to ripping his hair out, for Zelda’s voice was very faint now, and he’d been able to hear snippets of what the healers and physicians were saying. They’d multiplied, summoning more physicians to aid the Queen the more apparent her distress became, and from what he’d overheard, he gathered they were going to attempt to manually turn the child around. It… did not sound pleasant. Moving a little closer to the door, he heard one healer announcing that the Queen was weakening, and if they were going to save her, they had to deliver the child immediately.

Ganondorf heard someone counting down, and realised that they were about to attempt to turn the child. He heard someone say “Go!”, and then Zelda screamed. It was a gut wrenching sound, and it tore at his nerves. Someone yelled “Again!”, and there was another ragged scream, and then another. He finished his drink and poured himself another.

“Again!” Yelled someone, and Zelda’s scream was more of an agonised moan, and then a low cheer went up.

“The child is in position!” Someone called, and he heard someone else order “Don’t let her lose consciousness!”

Ganondorf breathed a tiny sigh of relief; if the child was in the correct position, then the birth would proceed as usual, right?

Wrong.

A panicked cry went up. “The Queen – she’s slipping! We’re going to lose her!”

There was a general round of swearing and reshuffling of healers as the most experienced physicians, or so Ganondorf assumed, converged on Zelda. He couldn’t hear their conversation after that; the orders flew thick and fast, and he couldn’t make out more than individual words over the din. He sculled his drink, trying to figure out what was happening.

After spending a few minutes with his heart in his mouth, Ganondorf realised the tone of the voices from inside Zelda’s bedchamber were calming; listening hard, he deduced that they’d nearly lost her, but they’d managed to stabilise her. Now, they had to deliver the baby, and fast.

He heard someone talking to Zelda, trying to keep her conscious and encouraging her to push. She was audibly exhausted by now, and by the sound of it, the healer in charge of keeping her awake was having difficulty in doing so. Ganondorf gritted his teeth, willing for her to keep fighting. After a long moment, Zelda cried out again, and there seemed to be a hush over the attending medical personnel; blessedly, there came a low groan of pain, and then the room exploded into activity.

He suspected he might die of suspense, but then from the hurried shouted explanations from the healers amidst their flurry of activity, he realised the baby had been successfully delivered, but wasn’t breathing. Ganondorf went and poured himself a very stiff drink and sculled it in one go, hoping against hope that the healers would save his newest daughter.

After a wait during which he drank nine glasses of whiskey neat in rapid succession to calm his nerves, Ganondorf was feeling a touch wobbly, the door opened to reveal a healer holding a small wrapped bundle. He stared at her as she came and stood a safe distance away.

“Congratulations, your Majesty.” She said.

Ganondorf stood up, feeling a little fuzzy around the edges. “A princess?” The moment the words left his mouth, he frowned at himself. Why did he even ask that? He knew the child was a princess.

‘Uh, no, Sire. It’s a boy. A prince.” The healer paled a little at the look on his face. “Um… I’ll just… the Queen needs attending.” She laid the bundle down on the closest divan, arranging some cushions around the baby as a bumper, then scooted back into Zelda’s bedchambers.

A boy. A prince. Ganondorf stared at the bundle, seeing the movement of the blanket as the child burbled to itself. He couldn’t see the infant… and he preferred it that way. His fingers curled into fists as he swayed a little. So. Zelda had an affair did she? She had a son, did she? Ralon wormed his way into his mind, but he disregarded it. The boy had been a fluke. Nothing more than a coincidence brought on by Zelda’s Hylian womb. They’d had six other children since then, and they were all girls. No, it was blindingly obvious what had happened here. He began to pace, putting out a hand to steady himself on the wall. Zelda, having always manipulated him during the course of their marriage, had finally tired of bearing his children. Why, she’d been taking contraceptives, hadn’t she? And…. he nodded to himself. She had admirers, no doubt about that.

There were many men who wished to get under his wife’s skirts – and he had proof of that. Prince Lubal – dead, but he’d wanted Zelda. Prince Kerrigan – alive, and had kissed her. He’d caught him doing it. Caught right in the act! Ganondorf snarled at his reflection in a painting – obviously, Kerrigan had succeeded in bedding Zelda on a day when he had not been there to stop them – or maybe Zelda had bedded Kerrigan! That sneaky wench. The possibilities were endless.

Ganondorf stroked his beard angrily. This – this child was not his! Did she really think she could pass off a Hylian infant as his own child!? This would not stand. No – he would go in, confront that – that woman, his wife, supposedly, and find out exactly what she was playing at.

Zelda looked up as the door crashed open. The healers in the room all simultaneously flinched at the sight of the Demon King leaning against the door, arms folded. With an imperious jerk of his head, the healers got the hint and began filing out. Zelda slowly pushed herself a little higher on her pillows; she felt better, far less likely to lose consciousness ever since they’d forced what felt like a million restorative potions down her throat. One healer stopped to help her rearrange herself, and then with a last curtsy, the woman left, leaving her alone with her husband.

Zelda smiled at him through cracked lips, holding out a hand and wondering absently why he looked so displeased. Ganondorf pushed himself off the wall and came towards her, and she noticed a definite list to his walk. What…? Why was he – but what came out of his mouth next drove those thoughts from her mind.

“So. A son.”

Truly, he seemed quite upset about something.

Zelda smiled again. “Yes, another little boy – isn’t it wonderful? Ralon will be so pleased that he has a brother.”

To her surprise, the Gerudo King scoffed and mumbled something that sounded a little like ‘half’.

She frowned at him – the joy and relief of having finally delivered her son and ending the pain that had seemed for a while to be endless diminishing a little as she stared.

“Is… something the matter?” Zelda asked, and then she tried to see out the door into the circular chamber. Ganondorf was not holding the child, and the healers had told her that they’d taken their son to him… she had been asleep, and as yet, hadn’t even seen her little boy. “Where is our son? I want to see him, I haven’t seen him yet.”

Ganondorf’s brows rose. “Our son.” He snarled, and she blinked at him, the heavy effects of the potions and medicinals slowing her thoughts and reactions, dulling her mind.

“Yes, our son, what do you mean? I just gave birth to him, surely you can’t think he isn’t mine.” She joked weakly, and flinched a little as his stare became black.

“I don’t doubt he is yours, Zelda.” Ganondorf snarled, evidently so angry his words were a little slurred now. “What I doubt is who fathered the little brat.”

Her mouth fell open. “What!? You think – you think he is not your child?”

“I don’t think – I know.” He hissed furiously, coming closer. “But what I don’t know is who. Who was it, woman? Out with it. Kerrigan? I’ll rip his spleen out through his nose.”

Zelda stared at him, completely lost. “Have you gone mad?” She said blankly. “He’s your son.”

“He is not.”

Worry set in. Perhaps… perhaps he had good reason to think so?

“Why do you think that, exactly?” She asked cautiously, and pushed herself a little higher, grimacing at the pain of movement.

“He’s a boy, stupid woman.” Ganondorf hissed, and Zelda’s eyes narrowed as he continued. “Gerudo cannot have boys.”

“Ralon?” She raised a brow at him, determined to stay calm while she felt all muddled and try to be the rational one.

“Ralon was a fluke, a coincidence.” Ganondorf spat. “There’s no way it could happen again.”

There must be some way to prove to the idiotic man that he is the baby’s father, she thought to herself. “Come now, Gan. There’s really no need for such suspicion-”

Zelda found herself cut off as Ganondorf lurched forwards, a hand on either side of her on the bed, his furious snarl barely an inch from hers. And then, something made sense. As he opened his mouth, no doubt to spew some more horrible accusations, a fetid wave of alcohol washed over her.

“You’re drunk.” She said accusingly.

He frowned at her. “So what?” He said mulishly. “Doesn’t change the fact that you are an unfaithful, lying, devious whor-”

She slapped him as hard as she could. Ganondorf, his reflexes dulled by drink, was too slow to block the blow. He felt his cheek as she watched the imprint of her fingers bloom there, and glared. Good.

“You – you-” she said threateningly, unable to come up with a good enough insult. “How dare you-”

“How dare I?” He snarled. “How dare you. Parading around and showing off that child, and all the while it’s some by-blow with another man.” His eyes narrowed dangerously, and he pointed a finger at her. “I will not have it. You’ll get rid of it, Zelda. I’ll not have my children grow up with the bastard son-”  
Zelda grabbed his beard and pulled him close. “Get out.” She hissed.

Ganondorf wrenched himself backwards. “Gladly.” He roared. “As if I’d wish to associate any further with such a treacherous wife!”

“Get out!” She screamed.

He stormed towards the door, listing slightly to the left, and then he offered a final parting blow over his shoulder. “Especially when I thought she loved me.”

The door slammed behind him and Zelda stared in shock. Ganondorf had completely lost his mind. As the sound of the slamming door faded, a new one started – the cry of an infant. Panic washed through her. With the state Ganondorf was in –drunk and completely out of his wits – would he harm their child? She wasn’t about to take the risk. Using her magic, she rang the bell continuously until a group of healers arrived.

“Oh.” She gasped. “The baby – get my baby.”

The healers looked confused. “Your Majesty?”

“The King – is really angry.” She got out. “I don’t know why – but my baby is alone in there with him.”

Through the door, there came the distinct sound of Ganondorf telling the baby to shut up. The healers all looked anxiously at one another, and then as a group they dived for the door. Zelda waited nervously, fingers clenched, until they returned, her baby cradled in the arms of one of them.

“Hide him.” She said. “Don’t take him to the nursery. Just – hide him somewhere where the King won’t find him, until I can get this sorted out.”

Three of the healers nodded and curtsied, then hurried down the servant’s stairs with her son. Zelda watched them go with tears in her eyes; she still hadn’t even held him yet. A spike of anger washed through her. Ganondorf was robbing her of time with her baby through his own selfish idiocy.

Her tears escaped, rolling down her cheeks as she began to hyperventilate as her mind tried to sort through things and failed, her chest tight, nails biting into her palms.

The remaining healers crowded around her. “You must calm down, your Majesty.” Said one. “You’ve been through a traumatic birth, you must not overexerted yourself.”

“Why would he say that?” Zelda whispered to herself, missing the worried looks the healers gave each other. “I don’t understand.”

And she didn’t. Her head felt fuzzy and confused, and she couldn’t think. It was a disgusting feeling – she needed her Wisdom, and she couldn’t get at it.

“Put me to sleep.” She said, clutching at the sleeve of one of the healers. “Give me something. I don’t want to think, I want to sleep.”

They nodded. “I’ll bring a sedative potion.” Said one gravely.

Zelda tried a smile through her tears. “Th-thank you.” She whispered shakily.

Ganondorf had a bad feeling. He’d stormed out of Zelda’s bedchamber perfectly assured in his conviction that he was right; she’d had an affair, and the child was not his, but now… he wasn’t entirely sure.

The healers had scrambled into the room as he was pouring himself another drink and collected the child, and a good thing it was too; the bloody thing was squalling its head off, and he wasn’t about to go and comfort it. But… as the healer had lifted the child to carry it away… he’d caught sight of it. Now… he was feeling rather uncomfortable, because what he had noticed was not a child who was entirely Hylian. No, far from resembling Zelda and her lover… the child resembled him.

Ganondorf was pacing. He’d been pacing for most of the morning. Roughly an hour ago, he’d gone looking for the boy. He’d sobered up by now, and was feeling a smidge guilty for how he’d treated Zelda yesterday. When he’d arrived at the nursery, the nurse and her assistant had nervously ganged up on him, refusing to tell him where the child was. It wasn’t in the nursery, that much was obvious. After talking to his children, who’d already met their little brother and were very excited about him, he’d left, assuming that the infant was with Zelda. On the way, however, he’d overheard two healers discussing the Queen’s orders to hide the child from him, which had made him feel even guiltier.

Following what they’d said, he’d sprung the location where the child was hidden, frightening several healers half to death in the process, and taken the child to the nursery. It would be best that way, he mused, to end the gossip before it really got going. It was blindingly obvious that the child was his… and that he was, in fact, a moron.

Now, he knew he had to speak to Zelda. It would be very unpleasant – the memory of her slapping him rose, and he swelled in indignation, before grudgingly admitting that he may have deserved it. Perhaps… he would even have to apologise.

Frowning slightly at the idea, Ganondorf knocked on her door.

An almost anxious voice answered him. “Come in!” He paused before opening the door. Zelda seemed anxious to speak with him, not anxious about seeing him – his spirits rose. Perhaps this would be easier than he’d thought.

The moment he stepped foot into the room, Zelda’s uplifted expression changed to a frown. “Oh.” She said stiffly. “It’s you.”

He raised a brow. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.” She snapped. “I’m waiting for my baby; everyone knows him except for me, I want to see him, and no one will bring me my baby!”

Ganondorf blinked in surprise. “What – you haven’t seen him yet? Why not?”

Her eyes widened then narrowed. “I take it from that that you have.” There was a slight awkward pause. “No, I have not seen him. I didn’t get that chance yesterday, thanks to you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Have you sent-”

“No, I’m waiting for the bloody fairies to bring him.” Zelda snapped. “Of course I’ve sent someone. I can’t think what’s holding them up.” Her anger faded to be replaced by fear. “You don’t think – he isn’t-”

Ganondorf knew exactly what she was getting at, and hastened to reassure her. “He’s fine, Zelda. I saw him an hour ago, he’s-”

“You saw him.” Zelda’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, her voice hard. “Why?”

“Why not?” Ganondorf snapped, his irritation getting the better of him. “He’s my son.”

Zelda looked as though she’d been carved from stone. “So he is yours now, is he?” She asked icily. “May I ask what changed your mind?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “How about I go and get him?” He didn’t wait for her reply, simply warped back down to the nursery. The nurses looked a little startled, and the rest of the children crowded around him.

“Where’s Mama, Papa?” Asked Saffie, and Ralon beamed at his little brother where he lay in his cot.

“I have a brother, Papa!” He said in awe.

“Mama’s fine, she wants to see your new little brother.” He said in Gerudo, ruffling Ralon’s hair. He picked up the child and turned to the nurses, who looked a trifle anxious still, no doubt because of Zelda’s order to keep him away from the child.

“The Queen wishes to see the child.” He said gruffly in Hylian, and the nurses both curtsied.

“Of course, your Majesty.” Said the senior one. “And the rest of the children?”

“They can come up later. We’ll send word.” Ganondorf said, then said goodbye to the children and warped back to Zelda’s bedchamber.

She looked up anxiously and excitedly as he appeared in her rooms, and held out her hands. “Give him to me.” She pleaded.

Ganondorf carried the infant across the room and settled him into his mother’s arms and watched as the sun bloomed across her face with a heavy heart. If he hadn’t been such an idiot, Zelda wouldn’t have been the last person to get to know her own child.

As he watched, her smile faded to be replaced by coldness as she stroked her fingers across the infant’s face. “I thought.” She began icily. “That perhaps you had a reason for your little performance yesterday. I thought maybe you had some sort of leg to stand upon – maybe the child resembled me. I thought, maybe he’s like Ciery. Maybe he’s fair and blonde, and doesn’t appear to be very Gerudo at all.”

Ganondorf braced himself for the blow.

“But what is this?” Zelda asked, slowly and venomously. “I look at my baby, and I find he has dark skin, red hair and gold eyes. Tell me, how did you get it into your head that you were not his father? Are there other Gerudo men running around for me to have affairs with? Did you forget you are the only one?”

“There’s Ralon.” He mumbled automatically; too late, he realised those words could be horribly misconstrued.

Zelda simply stared at him for a long moment. “That.” She said at last. “Was a statement of such staggering idiocy I’m simply going to ignore it.”

He did not disagree.

“Listen, Zelda, I-”

“No, you’re going to listen to me, and you’re going to tell me exactly how you looked at this child and thought he wasn’t yours.”

Ganondorf sighed heavily, feeling like a wet dog. He sat down on the side of the bed and looked at his feet. “I didn’t.”

There was a brief pause. “You didn’t?” Zelda sounded amazed. “You didn’t even look at him before you came in here to call me a whore?”

He winced. “Zelda, I didn’t mean – I was rather… drunk.” He attempted to defend himself. How did the blasted woman make him feel so small?

“That’s no excuse.” She said sharply. “And why were you drunk, anyway?”

“Because I was worried.” He mumbled, then took the chance to look at her. “Zelda, the healers came in and pretty much told me you were going to die. I was drinking because I needed something to occupy my mind with. The alternative was sitting there trying to think how I’d tell the children if…”

He looked at his hands, and then started when one of hers covered his.  
“Oh, Gan.” Zelda smiled softly. “I still think you’re a bit of an idiot, but I suppose that’s an acceptable reason for drinking, even if you did rather overindulge.” Her voice turned hard again. “But you are most certainly not forgiven for what you called me… and our child.”

He tightened his grip on her hand as she tried to pull away. “Then… let me explain. I don’t think it’ll be a very good explanation, but…”

Zelda frowned severely. “You called my baby a bastard. How could you do that if you hadn’t even looked at him?”

“I – I – ugh.” Ganondorf scowled at her. Apologies – he hated them, and Zelda could made him feel so horribly small, like a scolded child. “I didn’t look at him because I thought he wasn’t mine – because I may have jumped to conclusions.” He said slowly, avoiding Zelda’s gaze. “I didn’t want to look at him because if I did… and he was Hylian… It meant I had lost you.”

Zelda frowned at her husband. Really, for such a powerful, confident, awe-inspiring man, he could be terribly insecure. Even now, after all these years, he still didn’t quite believe she could really love him. “Fool.” She said fondly, and squeezed his fingers. “Come here.”

Ganondorf looked hopeful as he moved onto the bed properly, and she let him pull her softly into his chest, his arms around her.

“I’m sorry, Zelda.” He whispered into her ear, and she smiled.

“You’re a twit, you know that?” She said, twisting around to see him. “You need to learn to control yourself. It’s no good just apologising after you mess up, because one day you’re going to say or do something unforgivable.”

He frowned, but nodded slowly. “I… know.” He said rather unwillingly.

“I mean it.” Zelda said with a frown. “You must stop this. You can’t keep insulting me like this and expect me to let you come crawling back every time.”

Ganondorf frowned. “Zelda, I-”

“And what do you mean, you may have jumped to conclusions? From where I stand, the village idiot could see that you did. Are you a man or aren’t you? Admit that you were wrong and I may be able to forgive you.”  
He glowered. “Don’t treat me like a child-”

“Then don’t act like one.” She snapped, then turned back to her baby. “You rejected your son, Ganondorf. He spent the first few hours of his life in the arms of strangers, when he should have been with you and I.”

Ganondorf shifted uncomfortably. “I know it and I regret it. Listen, Zelda, I-”  
“Not to mention the fact you had the unmitigated gall to come in here and accuse me of infidelity not even two hours after I nearly died giving birth to your child. Did you not stop to think that maybe that wasn’t the best time?”

“Zelda, I-”

“Stop.” She said, adjusting the baby’s blanket. “I must stop you there, even if you were about to apologise, which I certainly hope you were, but I cannot accept your apologies yet.”

“You don’t forgive me.” He said quietly, playing with a lock of her hair.

“Have you lost your mind? Of course I don’t forgive you.” Zelda twisted around to look at him. “I nearly died, and then I wake up to that. Would you forgive?”

He was quiet for a moment. “No.”

“Can I ask you why you are so quick to believe I would be unfaithful to you? I love you. I wouldn’t stray. Not for anyone.” She stared at the wall, shoulders stiff. “It hurts you think so low of me.”

Hah. A little emotional manipulation never hurt anyone, particularly when the goal was to show Ganondorf just how his rash and unthinking words could affect others.

Ganondorf’s fingers combed through her hair softly. “I don’t. Not really.” He murmured. “It’s just… the thought of you with another man kills me inside.”

Zelda couldn’t help her smile. Really, he was so territorial and possessive of her. Still, she was teaching him a lesson here. “Fool. You are quite sweet, in a particularly misguided kind of way.” She tossed her hair and readjusted the baby’s blanket. “I know you’re quick to react, and you’re possibly the most jealous man I’ve ever met, but you need to think more before you act.”

She just knew he was frowning at her.

“Jealous?”

Zelda rolled her eyes. “Don’t say you’re not because you know it’s true.” A thought occurred to her. “You’re taking this rather calmly, actually. I’m impressed.”

Ganondorf looked slightly confused. “What?”

She shrugged and leaned back against him properly as the baby woke up and started burbling, waving his tiny fists in the air. Zelda laughed and brushed his smattering of scarlet hair back, lifting him up to kiss his forehead. Slowly but surely, her baby was bringing back her good mood. She’d survived, and so had her tiny son. It was hard to remain angry when she had him in her arms.

“You know, we haven’t named him.” She said, looking back up at her husband. “I still haven’t forgiven you, but as of now, we can put it aside, just for the moment. What are we going to call him?”

Ganondorf looked immensely relieved to have changed the subject, and reached out to touch their son’s hand. “Well, Isiya has a Hylian name, so it’s time for a Gerudo one…”

“Hah! Please.” Zelda said with a roll of her eyes. “You think after that stunt you pulled, you’ll get to name my son?”

Ganondorf stiffened. “What?”

She turned to raise a brow at him. “You have insulted me beyond any possible measure, so I think this is an acceptable apology.”

His mouth opened and shut once before he could get his words out. “Um, no.”

She raised her brow harder. “Oh?”

He looked a little uncomfortable. “You’re not going to get angry at me again, are you?”  
“I never got un-angry at you.” She said snippily, then grinned to herself. She had no intention of insisting on a Hylian name for the boy – she was just trying to make him sweat. “But fine. We did have a Gerudo name picked out for a girl… so what other Gerudo boy’s names are there? Seems to me we’d have a much bigger pool to choose from if we went with a Hylian name.”

“Cagono.” Said Ganondorf promptly. “One of the first Kings of our ancient past.”

“Your ancient past?”

“The first Gerudo. Before we were even called Gerudo. Before me. He lived in Demise and Hylia’s time, and he was a great leader.”

Zelda wrinkled her nose. “I’ll… think about it.” She yawned. “You don’t mind if I sleep, do you? I’m still pretty exhausted from yesterday.”

Concern flashed over his features. “Of course. Don’t let me keep you awake if you need to sleep.”

Ganondorf stroked Zelda’s hair softly as she drifted off, then readjusted their child so that her suddenly lax hold didn’t roll him off her lap. He sincerely hoped she’d actually agree to let him name his son with a Gerudo name – who knew how long she’d hold what he’d said against him?  
At that very second, the baby started screaming and woke Zelda up. He scooped up the infant as she jerked upright, looking blearily around.  
“Wha-what?” She mumbled, and he pulled her back against him, trying to soothe the child at the same time. “What’s going on?”

“Baby’s hungry.” He said, rocking the child, and Zelda reached for him.

“Give him to me.” She said, her voice close to a coo. He’d noted that she didn’t seem to be able to hang onto her anger when she was holding their son – the smile on her face proved that as she adjusted her nightgown so the child could feed.

“I don’t suppose…” He began, clearing his throat.

Zelda was quiet for a moment. “Mmm?”

The door suddenly swung wide, and several small children went sprawling onto the carpet.

Ganondorf grinned as Saffie pushed Ralon and Reeva off her and scrambled to her feet.

“Mama!” She called. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, sweetpea.” Said Zelda, sitting up and holding out a hand to the rest of the children. The baby finished feeding and gurgled happily in his blanket, and the bed was soon swamped with numerous other small children. The twins were nearly twelve now, which made Ciery almost eleven, Niruni ten, Aela nine, Rivariku seven, and Isiya almost three.

“What’s his name, Mama?” Asked Aela, and Ganondorf looked at Zelda, waiting to see what she’d say. Zelda looked fairly uncomfortable for a moment, and then she looked down at the child and pulled his blanket back so Isiya could see him properly.

“His name is…”

Ganondorf waited with bated breath.

“…Cagono.” Finished Zelda with a small irritated sigh.

“Hello Caga-mo!” Chirped Isiya, waving at her new brother.

Ganondorf chuckled slightly as Zelda brushed Isiya’s blonde hair back from her face.

“Cag – own – oh.” Enunciated Zelda slowly.

“Caga-no.” Isiya tried again.

“Close enough.” Zelda smiled up at him briefly, then frowned and looked away.

Reeva scrambled up to sit next to him, and Ganondorf hoisted her up.

“Can he train with us, Papa?” She whispered in his ear.

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, not yet. He’s a bit small, don’t you think?”

Reeva scrunched up her nose. “Ummmm… he looks small… do you think he won’t be able to kick box very well?”

“I doubt it.”

Reeva looked disappointed for a second, then brightened again. “Well, if he can’t fight, I can use him for target practice!”

“Don’t be silly Reeva!” Said Aela, hands on her hips. “You can’t use a baby for target practice!”

“Why not?” Fired back Reeva.

“No one’s using anyone for target practice.” Said Zelda, tugging Reeva down onto her bottom.

Ganondorf ruffled Reeva’s hair. “Don’t worry, kiddo. We’ll go and beat the stuffing out of some guards this afternoon.”

“Yay!”

He looked down at Zelda, who was showing Ciery how to hold Cagono without dropping him. She’d agreed to name him Cagono – perhaps she’d forgiven him and gotten past her anger. The thought cheered him immensely.

“What are you smiling about?” Zelda whispered above the chatter of their children.

Ganondorf tightened his grip on her waist and grinned.

“You’ve agreed to name him Cagono – that means I’m forgiven, right?”

In his jubilant mood, he missed the narrowing of her eyes.

“Not a chance.”


	13. Piggy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two year old Cagono has his treasured pet piggy decapitated by his sister... and his father.

Zelda drummed her fingers lightly on the table before her as she waited for order to fall upon her assembled ministers. They had a mountain of work to get through today.

“Gentlemen.” She said quietly, her soft tone carrying throughout the room as her ministers heard and stopped their conversations amongst one another, turning to look at her.

Zelda frowned slightly as she glanced towards the empty seat that ought to hold her husband, but it was empty. Shrugging slightly, she decided to begin the meeting anyway. Ganondorf knew what time the meetings started; if he chose to be late, she wasn’t going to throw her schedule off balance. He could catch up when and if he arrived.

Cagono wandered down another vast hall, clutching his blanket and piggy tightly to him, watching each door carefully as he passed. The castle was so big! It wasn’t fair. All he wanted was his mama, and he couldn’t find her. Sniffling a little, the child hauled his blankie a little closer as he turned a corner, trying to remember where he was. This place was confusing, with twists and turns and stairs and door after door after door.

His spirits sank. He’d never find mama ever, and now, with a worried look over his shoulder, he wasn’t sure if he’d find the nursery again either. Cagono sat down in the hall, tears spilling down his cheeks as he pulled back blankie to see piggy. “Where’s Mama, Piggy?” He whispered, chubby fingers smearing his tears across his face and into his wild red hair.

Footsteps. Cagono lifted his head, listening hard, and climbed to his feet. Footsteps had people attached to them, and people knew where Mama was. Setting off again, he toddled down the long hall, chasing the steps before they went away, but tripped on his blankie and went sprawling onto the stone floor, banging his chin. Sobbing, he sat up, rubbing the hurt spot and wishing his mama was there to hug him like she always did. Mama could make things better. He just had to find her. Standing up again, he lifted his blankie higher so he didn’t step on it, then tried to run down the hall. By the time he reached the end, looking eagerly both ways down the next passage, the person had gone, and he was still alone.

Tears blurred his vision and the little boy had to stop and wipe them away before he continued, and he picked one direction and set off down it, thinking that perhaps everyone in the whole castle had gone away, leaving him here all by himself. Cagono was just about ready to sit down, give up and have a good cry when he heard voices. Sniffling hard, he followed the sound to another corridor, where he toddled closer to a door to listen. There were men inside… and mama! Cagono recognised her calm, soothing voice, and he swallowed hard, trying to stop his tears, and jumped for the doorhandle, which was just over his head.

Whilst her youngest child was crying to himself in a corridor not so far away, Zelda was calling the meeting to order. “I believe we ought to begin.” She said, throwing a significant look to the empty chair besides her. “I haven’t the slightest clue where his Majesty is, but we won’t do ourselves any favours by sitting around until he decides to show up.”

There was a smattering of agreement, and Zelda reached for her agenda. 

“Right.” She said, frowning as she trailed her gaze down the list of items. “First on the list is… Minister Enolo, can you give us a progress report of the building of the new hospital?”

“Of course, your Majesty.” He said smoothly, standing up and moving towards the stand they sometimes used to present ideas. On it was an architectural drawing of a large and stately building.

“As you can see, we’ve selected the final design for the building, and the site is being prepared as we speak. Building materials will be delivered from next week, and construction is expected to begin within a few weeks, barring any setbacks. From here, however, it looks like plain sailing.”

“Wonderful.” Zelda eyed the image of the building. “I hope it won’t be the same as the old hospital, Minister. You know my opinions on-”

She was interrupted by the sound of the door swinging open. Fully expecting it to be Ganondorf, Zelda turned in her chair, along with the rest of her advisors, and looked to the door. There was no one there. Very swiftly, she realised she had to adjust the height of her gaze – eight foot in the air was kind of overshooting the mark for the toddler standing in the doorway.

Her brows furrowed in concern as she realised Cagono was crying; the two year old sniffled and ran into the room.

“Mama!” He wailed piteously, and just as she was standing up, he stepped on the trailing end of his blanket and tripped, smacking his face into the stone floor. Zelda was by his side in an instant, picking him up and checking him for injuries.

“Cagono, sweetie, are you okay?” She asked, brushing the tears off his cheeks. “Whatever’s the matter?”

Cagono didn’t answer, merely pulled something out from underneath his blanket and shoved it in her face. Zelda pulled back in shock at the sight of a decapitated pig’s head – a moment later and she realised it wasn’t real; it was the head of his favourite stuffed piggy, the one he slept with each night.

“Oh, baby.” Zelda gathered the little boy closer, taking the ruined toy from his grasp as Cagono buried his face into her neck, letting out a sob. “What happened to your piggy?”

“Reeva did it.” He mumbled against her skin.

_“Reeva!?_  What? Why?”

The toddler only shook his head. “I don’t know, Mama.” He said, voice dangerously wobbly. “She threw Piggy’s head at me, and I don’t know where the rest of him is!” He dissolved into tears at this point. Zelda rocked him slowly as she attempted to comfort him, and then noticed how tired he looked.

Brushing his red hair back, Zelda asked him in a whisper if he’d had his nap yet – it was midday, and roughly the time all of the younger children ought to be asleep – but he replied that he hadn’t, because he’d been looking for her. Cagono yawned, and nestled closer, almost asleep now. Zelda picked him up carefully, then returned to her seat.

“Sorry about the interruption, gentlemen.” She said with a bright smile, setting the remains of Piggy on the table and readjusting Cagono’s position on her lap, spreading his blanket over him. The poor little boy must have been exhausted from missing his nap and trekking all over the castle to find her, because he was already asleep.

“Not at all, your Majesty.” Said Mayor Norram warmly. The elderly man had a fondness for the little prince, who was fascinated with his admittedly very impressive handlebar moustache. “Are you sure you’d rather not postpone our meeting?”

“No, no.” Zelda shook her head, reaching for the agenda again. “He’s asleep now, and he’ll be out for an hour or two. We’re already running late, so we might as well get on with it.”

The ministers all reached for their own documents, and just as Zelda began to speak, the door swung wide one more. Sighing slightly at this interruption, Zelda turned, only to find this time her gaze was set too low – she had to raise it to meet her husband’s eyes. Ganondorf looked entirely unperturbed by his lateness. He sauntered in, clad in his training outfit of snug trousers and boots, his vest open to reveal his sweat-slicked musculature. Barely refraining from rolling her eyes at the trying-very-hard-not-to-look-but-looking-anyway expressions on her advisors faces, she smiled as sweetly as she could.

“How very good of you to finally grace us with your presence, Sire.” She said as Ganondorf sat in his chair.

He smirked, started to say something, then trailed off in confusion when he saw Cagono asleep on her lap.

“What’s he doing in here?” He asked, and Zelda stroked her son’s hair softly, then motioned to the decapitated pig.

“Reeva ruined his Piggy, the one he sleeps with at night. He’s very upset.”

Ganondorf eyed the stuffed pig with the kind of distaste he always reserved for things of the porcine persuasion, and then his brows knitted in uncomfortable recognition. Zelda’s eyes narrowed at his expression, because Ganondorf suddenly looked quite uncomfortable as he stared at the pig.

“Let’s get started.” He said suddenly, reaching for his agenda, and Zelda, as Cagono was fast asleep for the moment, was willing to let things go. However, for the rest of the meeting, she didn’t miss the way his gaze continually drifted back to the pig.

* * *

After the meeting was over, Zelda was carrying Cagono (still fast asleep) back to her chambers, side-eyeing Ganondorf suspiciously as he walked beside her, turning the stuffed pig’s head around and around in his hands.

“So do you want to tell me why you keep looking at the pig like that?” Zelda asked once they were in her chambers, and she’d laid Cagono down on her bed and tucked him in.

Ganondorf started in an almost guilty fashion, and he set the pig on a table, then turned away from it.

“No reason.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, and Zelda narrowed her eyes. He was hiding something. “So he came into the meeting with the pig?”

She nodded and sat on the bed next to the toddler, absentmindedly adjusting his blanket.

“Yes. He told me Reeva did it. He came wandering all over the castle looking for me, the poor tiny thing.” Zelda leaned down and kissed his cheek softly. “Why would she do that? Surely she knows he can’t sleep without it.” She climbed off the bed. “Will you stay with him while he’s sleeping? I want to go find Reeva.”

Ganondorf was staring at the pig again.

“Ganondorf?” She prompted, feeling more suspicious than ever. His head jerked around.

“What? Uh, yes, fine.”

He went and sat on the bed next to his son, and Zelda eyed them both for a moment. 

“I can’t think of why she would do such a thing.” She said again, waiting for Ganondorf’s agreement. When none came, she narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you agree?!”

The Gerudo merely shrugged. “I can’t say I’m too bothered by it. I never liked the pig anyway. It was entirely inappropriate for Nabooru to give it to him in the first place. All it was was a joke at my expense; it was unfortunate that Cagono got so attached to it. No, I’m pleased it’s gone.”

Zelda stared at him for a moment. “A fine thing to say. I suppose you’ll tell your son that when he wakes up; that his Papa is  _pleased_  his favourite Piggy got decapitated. Do you realise the bond a small child forms with a toy like that? How am I supposed to get him to sleep now?”

Ganondorf shrugged again, and she ground her teeth in irritation. How could he be so unfeeling! It was true enough that the pig could be seen as insulting; she’d felt it in the beginning, but as the small stuffed creature had become her youngest child’s most treasured possession, she’d ignored it in favour of Cagono’s comfort. “You are cruel.” She said slowly. “He’s only two! He doesn’t understand any insult about it! He’s  _devastated_ , and you ought to comfort him, not take pleasure in something that will give him pain.”

The King rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t going to parade that fact before him.” Another guilty look was shot at the pig, and Zelda took a step forwards, her hands on her hips.

“You were training before your meeting. Was Reeva with you?”

The child simply idolised her father, and it was rare, very rare, that she would miss out on training with him. Rivariku was, as Ganondorf was very fond of saying, Gerudo through and through; the girl refused point blank to wear dresses, and was forever begging for a new piece of weaponry to add to her collection.

Guilt crossed his expression for a split second. “She was.” He said slowly.

“And did she have the pig with her?” Zelda asked very precisely, eyes spitting fire.

There was a pause. “No.”

“Very well. Stay here; I’ll be back with Reeva shortly.”

Ganondorf nodded slightly before she swept out the door. He had had something to do with the decapitation of the pig, or he at least knew what had happened, Zelda was sure of it.

She headed to the nursery first; if Reeva wasn’t there, she’d try the training grounds, the storerooms, and the soldiers barracks. Those were the places the almost seven year old was mostly likely to be; if she wasn’t there, well. She’d find the naughty child eventually.

Reeva wasn’t in the nursery, nor was she in the soldier’s barracks. Zelda headed to the training grounds; Reeva loved spending time there with the guards. She passed down the stone steps that led into the low pit, and saw her daughter ferociously beating up a hapless dummy, being shamelessly egged on by the guards. She got halfway across the pit without being spotted, so she cleared her throat.

“Rivariku!”

Reeva nearly lost her balance on her last spin kick when she heard someone call her name – her  _full_  name. Glancing up and brushing her hair out of her eyes, she realised it was her mother – and mama didn’t look happy.

Reeva frowned a little, wondering if she was in trouble. Then again, she didn’t think mama was ever happy with what she did. 

“Mama.” She replied a little cautiously, digging her staff into the dirt and leaning on it.

“Will you come with me, dear?”

Hesitating a moment, Reeva watched her mother. “Okay.” She said finally, handing one of the guards her staff. She scurried over to where mama was standing, and took her proffered hand. Mama smiled, but she looked rather stern. “Is everything okay, Mama?” She asked.

Mama frowned a little into the distance. “No, not really. Reeva, darling… Cagono came to find me before.”

Reeva frowned. She knew where this was going now. As mama led her towards the stairs that led out of the pit, the Hylian Queen switched to Gerudo.

“Cagono had his pig with him. You know the one? He sleeps with it.”

“Yes.” She mumbled. Reeva found herself being speared by one of mama’s cold and searching glances. 

“His Piggy is ruined, my dear. Its head has been cut off.” Mama paused, and Reeva grimaced. “He said you did it.”

Reeva stared. “Mama, I-”

Mama held up her hand.  They were in the gardens now, and mama led her to a low stone bench in the roses, and they sat down facing one another.

“Now, Reeva, Cagono says that you did it. I doubt he’d have done it himself, so someone else has. That someone may be you, or it may have been someone else, and he just thinks it was you. What do you say?”

Reeva smiled slightly. Mama was very stern when anyone got in trouble… but she was fair. She wouldn’t pass judgement until everyone’s stories were heard, unlike papa, who tanned your backside the instant you did something to make him angry, and while the odds were much higher of making mama angry, everyone preferred her anger to papa’s.

“I did it.” She said quietly, folding her arms. “I didn’t think he’d be upset. It’s only a toy.”

Mama went very still, and then she touched her cheek softly. “Reeva, my darling, I know you don’t care much for toys, but you must realise that other people do. Cagono holds that little Piggy very dear. He loves it, and he’s heartbroken that you’ve ruined it.”

She fidgeted a little nervously. “I didn’t mean to make him upset. I just wanted a target…”

“What did you even do to it?”

“Umm… I was practicing with my hunting knife, Mama. We were learning to slit throats.”

Mama grimaced. “Lovely. But who’s ‘we’?”

“Oh, Eten, Mama! He’s Captain Carobi’s son, remember? We train together all the time.”

Mama nodded, then was silent for a moment. Reeva waited uncomfortably. She truly hadn’t meant to make her little brother upset… she knew he slept with the pig, but didn’t know he loved it. She wrinkled her nose. That was silly of him. Who would love a silly stuffed animal? It wasn’t real.

“You must come with me now.” Mama said, standing up. “You’ll wait with me until Cagono wakes up from his nap, and then you will apologise to him. As punishment, you are not allowed to train with Papa for the rest of the week.”

_What!_ Reeva leaped off the bench. “Mama! That’s not fair!”

“It’s very fair.” Mama took her hand again. “You have deprived your little brother of something he loves, and so you must lose the same in return.”

Reeva huffed indignantly and refused to speak the whole way up to mama and papa’s chambers. It wasn’t  _fair_.

When they got there, papa was in the big circular room filled with fireplaces and squashy chairs, and Reeva broke away from her mother’s grip and ran to climb up into her father’s arms.

“Papa!” She cried. “Mama says I can’t train with you anymore.”

Papa looked shocked, his big fuzzy brows drawing together like fighting caterpillars. “What? Zelda, what on earth are you doing?”

Mama looked sterner than ever as she folded her arms. “Reeva is correct. She has deliberately destroyed her little brother’s most treasured possession, and while I don’t believe her actions were malicious in nature, I cannot allow this to go unpunished.”

“But Mama!”

“No buts.” Snapped mama, looking angry now. “That is your punishment, my dear, and you’d do well to hear it. Maybe in the future you think twice before using your siblings possessions for  _target practice_.”

The derision in mama’s voice was too much to bear. Reeva scrambled down out of her papa’s arms and ran across the room to challenge her mother, standing before her with her hands on her hips.

“Mama, you can’t-”

“I can.” Mama interrupted, then knelt down, resting a hand on her shoulder, which Reeva promptly shook off. “Rivariku, you must learn that your behaviour has been unacceptable. If only way for you to do so is to take away something you love, than so be it. Besides, it’s not that bad a punishment. You can train again next week.”

Reeva swelled at the injustice. “Why are you acting like  _I’m_  the bad one?” She cried.

Mama had her patient face on now. “Because you have wilfully destroyed something of your brother’s! You must learn that your actions are wrong, and so you are being punished for it! You don’t deny that you took the pig, do you?”

_“But Papa said I could!_ ” Reeva yelled defiantly, pointing behind her, where papa had frozen in the act of putting a book back on the shelf.

Zelda froze as Ganondorf turned, his guilty look more pronounced than ever. She stood up slowly, taking her gaze from her daughter as she pointed at her father, and frowned.

“Did he now.” She said slowly. “Reeva, you are excused. Go down to the nursery and wait there please, and don’t forget that I want you to apologise to Cagono when you see him next.”

Reeva nodded and ran out of the room, and Zelda advanced on her husband. No wonder he’d looked so guilty! He was directly involved. “Is that true, Ganondorf? You told her she could use the pig for target practice?”

Ganondorf frowned, and neither of them noticed the small face watching through the slightly open door.

Cagono had woken up when he heard someone shouting, and he had climbed down from mama and papa’s big bed and wrapped his blankie around him, looking for mama. He couldn’t see her, but he could hear her, so he toddled over to the door. Mama was there with papa, and Reeva. Cagono watched and listened, confused, as Reeva said papa let her hurt piggy. He clutched blankie harder, tears in his eyes. Papa did it? Why would papa let her hurt piggy? That wasn’t very nice. He listened to mama, because she had started talking.

“Answer me! Did you let her?”

Papa nodded, and Cagono’s lower lip wobbled. Why would papa do that? 

“I let her use the blasted thing, and good riddance too.” Papa sounded angry, and Cagono didn’t know what some of those words meant, but he knew enough to realise papa  _wanted_  Reeva to hurt piggy. He stifled a sob, biting down hard on blankie to muffle the noise.

“ _Why?_ ” Mama sounded shocked and angry, and all Cagono wanted to do was hug her, and get some kissies, because he knew mama could fix his tears, even if piggy was dead and he couldn’t have him anymore.

“I didn’t realise it was Cagono’s pig.” Papa said, running a hand through his hair. Cagono frowned. Papa was silly. He took that piggy everywhere with him, how did papa forget? “I thought it was just some toy from the children’s pile, and if Reeva wanted to use her own toy, why not let her?”

“That excuses nothing.” Mama snapped in her pointy voice. “Where is the rest of the pig? I can sew it back together for Cagono.”

Cagono pricked up his ears, his heart in his mouth. He knew mama could fix anything! 

Papa frowned. “It’s gone. We set it on fire. Reeva and Eton were using it for their knife practice, and then they cut its head off, and then I’ve been teaching her how to use that spell, you remember? We used it as a target.”

Mama’s mouth dropped open as Cagono tried very hard not to scream into his blankie. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew what happened to it?” Mama sounded very angry now. “Are you that much of a coward you cannot own up to your mistakes?”

Anger flashed across papa’s face, but Cagono didn’t notice it. Papa burned Piggy? Tears ran down his face, and he simply couldn’t deal with it on his own anymore. The small boy stood up, pushing open the door and ran over to his mama as fast as his little legs could carry him, hugging her knees tightly and sobbing into her dress. Mama bent down and pulled him closer.

“Oh, baby.” She whispered, and Cagono hugged her as tightly as possible.

“Papa… burned…. Piggy.” He got out between muffled sobs, and mama gasped.

“Oh no… darling, you heard that?”

Zelda stroked Cagono’s hair and tried to soothe him as the toddler cried into her throat, all the while glaring at Ganondorf. So he’d heard them talking? Well. A fine mess Ganondorf had gotten himself into.

She carried Cagono over to the nearest divan and sank down on it, brushing his long hair back where it was stuck to his wet cheeks, and tried to soothe him.

“Cagono sweetpea, don’t cry.” She whispered. “It’ll be alright. We’ll get you another piggy if you want.”

Cagono surprised her by pulling back and sniffing hard. “No.” He said firmly, or as firmly as a toddler could manage. “Papa will burn it again.”

Ganondorf immediately came and knelt next to her, rubbing Cagono’s back softly. “Don’t be silly.” He said gruffly. “Of course I won’t.”

Cagono leaned up against her chest and stared at his father with almost disturbing clarity. “You’re mean, Papa.” He said, discomforting the both of them with how convicted the little boy sounded. “You’re  _mean_.”

Ganondorf stared at the boy, and then at her. Zelda stared back. It almost felt like Cagono could see past the affection the Gerudo King showed his children, and somehow knew that his father was the Demon King, and at his core, he was a cruel man.

“Zelda.” Said Ganondorf finally, not taking his eyes off Cagono’s face. “May I speak with my son in private?”

Zelda pulled Cagono closer. “You want to talk to Papa?” She whispered, and the little boy frowned, but nodded. She gave him to Ganondorf, who settled the little boy on his lap, and then stood up, adjusting her skirts.

“I’m going to find Reeva.” She said, then leaned in and kissed her son’s cheek. “Good boy.” She whispered in his ear, then stood and made for the door.

Cagono stared at his father, and his father stared back. Ganondorf knew he had to apologise to the boy, lest he take this and let it fester. He’d truly forgotten the pig belonged to his son, and now felt rather like a fool for doing so. Did the child not cart it around with him everywhere? He supposed the fact that it had been Reeva holding it and not Cagono had muddled him.

“I owe you an apology, my boy.” Said Ganondorf grimly, and Cagono frowned. 

_“Ap–ol–o–gie?”_  He said, sounding out the word carefully.

“I’m sorry.” Ganondorf said softly. “It means, ‘I’m sorry’. I truly forgot that the pig was yours. I thought he was Reeva’s.”

“You burned him.” Cagono said with a sniffle, folding his arms just like Zelda did when she was cross. It made him smile.

“I know. I’ll get you another one.”

The little boy nodded brightly. “Anther Piggy!” He clapped his hands, and then his smile faded. “You won’t hurt that piggy, will you Papa?”

Ganondorf touched his little nose softly, then brushed his vivid hair back. “I promise, Cagono. I will never harm your pig again.”

The little boy smiled, looking cheered, but then he stopped, his face looking rather doubtful. 

“Tell the truth, Papa!” He commanded, and Ganondorf frowned. Tell the truth? Did he think he was lying? He began to feel a little uncomfortable. Out of all his children, he got the feeling that Cagono was the only one who truly picked up on his status as Demon King. But that was ridiculous. The child was only two. How could he?

“I am telling the truth.” He growled. “It was a mistake, boy.”

There was a pause, and Ganondorf disliked the way the child looked at him. The look in his golden eyes was far too searching for a child his age.

“Okie, Papa.” Cagono said. “I believe you.” 

Ganondorf smiled when the little boy stood up and leaned forwards with his arms outstretched, and scooped him into a hug.

“Thank you Papa.” Cagono whispered.

“No, my son.” He whispered back. “Thank you.” And he meant it. From the sound of things, the little boy had forgiven him.

Cagono pulled back. “Don’t be mean, please Papa?” he pleaded. “Mean people get hurt.” He hugged him again, and Ganondorf returned the gesture mechanically, entirely surprised at the boy’s words. “Papa’s can’t get hurt.” Cagono mumbled. The little boy looked up again. “You’ll get hurt if you keep being mean.” He said solemnly, and from the glint in his eyes, Ganondorf knew the child expected him to continue being ‘mean’, and was cautioning him against it. 

Apparently, Cagono had an astonishing amount of insight for one so young. Ganondorf didn’t understand it. What he did understand, was that this insight meant that unless he treaded very carefully, there was every chance his relationship with his son could be damaged beyond repair. 

“Very well, my son.” He said softly. “I will try.”

He knew he had to, or else he might just lose his son for good.


	14. War Boar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is part two of the piggy fiasco! I really like making Ganondorf feel guilty about things, so here he is, feeling uncomfortable following Cagono’s little speech at the end of chapter 13, and wanting to set things to rights. In a very Demon King-y fashion, of course :D
> 
> This is what happens when Ganondorf thinks to himself ‘Cagono wants a pig? Okay. I’ll get him a pig.’

Ganondorf left Rivariku at the door of the nursery so she could change out of her sweat soaked clothes, and continued to his own chambers, where it was also his intention to change. It was Reeva’s first day of being allowed to train again after her mother had forbidden it, and the little girl had been ecstatic to get back down in the pit, her punishment having been extended from the one week for destroying her brother’s pig, to three weeks for sneaking down to the pit early.

“Bye Papa!” She chirped, waving, and he grinned and ruffled her messy braids.

“Bye Reeva. See you later.”

Setting off again, he strode from the children’s corridor, and nearly crashed into Ciery as she came wandering blindly around the corner, nose buried in a book.

“Whoa, watch yourself, Cissy.” He said, settling a hand on her shoulder. The girl smiled up at him, revealing pointed fangs. Ciery was fourteen now, and was blossoming into quite the mini Zelda – the girl was almost identical to her mother in every way. The only hints of her Gerudo heritage were her sharp teeth, her gold eyes, and her dark coppery hair. He was just dreading the day of her coming out ball, when she’d have fifteen suitors dangling on the end of her hook by the first hour. “You’ll fall down the stairs if you don’t get your nose out of that book.”

Ciery grinned. “Sorry Papa. It’s interesting.”

“What’s it about?”

“It’s about a witch who goes insane and tries to conquer the world.”

Ganondorf raised a brow. “Sound’s fascinating. Have you seen your mother?”

“She was in a meeting but I saw her afterwards, she said she was going to go and have a rest.”

“A rest? What for?”

Ciery shrugged. “I don’t know. She said she was feeling tired.”

“Hmm.” Ganondorf ruffled his daughter’s hair, then strode off down the corridor towards his and Zelda’s chambers.

Once he arrived, he found Ciery had been right; Zelda was curled up on a divan, a light blanket covering her form.

“Zelda?” He touched her cheek lightly. “Are you feeling alright?”

She opened her eyes, looking a little drawn. “Mmm? I’m fine… I just don’t feel very well.”

“Do you need a physician?”

She smiled wanly. “No, I’ll be fine. I’ll just lay off the paperwork for a day or two.” Zelda sighed. “I have to get up shortly anyway; I promised Cagono I’d take him to get a new piggy today.”

Underneath her tired, ill expression, there was a glimmer of challenge.

“No, you won’t.”

Zelda frowned. “Excuse me? First you help Reeva decapitate his pig, and then you think you’ll stop him from getting a new one? Well I’ve got news for you, buddy, and it’s all _bad_. It’s been a few weeks, you know. He can’t sleep in my bed forever, so he needs a replacement.”

Ganondorf chuckled. “No, I meant, I’ll take him.”

Zelda deflated. “What?”

“You always think the worst of me. I intended to all along.”

“Oh.” His wife sounded surprised and pleased. “I’m glad. Cagono will be pleased.”

He snorted. “I’m not exactly looking forwards to it. Imagine what the Hylians will say when I walk into a _toyshop_ , of all places.”

She snickered a laugh. “Oh dear. Do you think you can stand it?”

“I’ll have to, won’t I?”

She nodded and closed her eyes, making concern shoot through him.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look very well. It’s not the baby, is it? Morning sickness?”

Zelda was around four months pregnant; she’d known for a while, but had been so put out by his behaviour (however inadvertent it had been) to Cagono, she’d only told him just a few short days ago.

She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I feel as though I simply ate something that disagreed with me.”

“Well, If you’re sure… I’ll go and find Cagono now.”

She smiled softly. “Good…”

Ganondorf let her sleep, leaving the circular chamber in favour of seeking out Cagono. It was time to heal the rift caused between him and his youngest child by the ruination of his piggy. Cagono had been fairly cold towards him these last few weeks, and though he was warming up again, Ganondorf knew the child wouldn’t fully forgive him without something big. Therefore, he would take him to get a new piggy. The toddler would be in the nursery, which was the usual place to find his younger children.

Reaching the nursery door, he swung it open to find his two youngest children sitting on the floor under the watchful eye of the nurse, who stood and curtsied at his entrance. Cagono was playing with his building blocks, and Isiya, who was four, was flicking through a book about Hyrule’s native butterflies.

He nodded at the nurse, who quietly sat down again with her knitting as he knelt down on the floor.

“What’re you reading, Issy?” He asked, running a hand through her long blonde hair.

“Butterflies, Papa!”

“Very interesting. Which one’s your favourite?”

While Isiya was deliberating, Ganondorf turned to Cagono, who was currently climbing onto his lap.

“Papa!” He said happily.

“Hello, my little man. What have you been up to?”

“I’m building castles, Papa.”

At that moment, Isiya came over with her book. “This one, Papa!”

“Very nice. I like this one best.” Ganondorf pointed a red butterfly, and Isiya shook her head.

“No, Papa, the blue one is best!”

“What about you, Cagono?”

The little boy frowned hard, but then pointed at the same one his sister had chosen. Ganondorf raised a brow.

“You’re ganging up on me.”

That made both of them laugh, and then Ciery and Saffie came into the room.

“Hello Papa.” They chorused, and Isiya got up and went over to her older sisters, where sixteen-year-old Saffie lifted Issy into her arms. _Perfect_ , he thought to himself.

“Want to come with me, Cagono?” He asked, and the little boy nodded. Standing up with his son in his arms, he nodded at the nurse, said goodbye to his daughters, then proceeded on down towards the stables.

“Where’re we going, Papa?” Asked Cagono as he fisted his small hands in the front of his robes.

“We are going to Lorke’s Toyshop.”

Any discomfort and annoyance this would cause him was instantly worth it when Cagono’s eyes lit up and he gasped in wonder.

“Really, Papa?”

“Really.”

“What can I get?”

“Anything you like.”

Cagono clapped and laughed, drawing the eye of many Hylians as they passed through the Great Hall and out of the castle. He set Cagono down on a hay bale and chatted to the little boy as he saddled his stallion (protocol demanded that the stable hands ready his horse, but the fact of the matter was that the horse was far too massive for mere Hylians to handle). Once the stallion was ready, Ganondorf mounted his steed with Cagono sitting perched on the pommel.

The ride through the extensive castle grounds and down into Castle Town was quite enjoyable with an excited little boy pointing out anything and everything of interest. Cagono waved energetically at the gardeners they passed, and they paused their work to lean on their rakes and spades and wave back.

“Look Papa! Birdies!” He yelped, and Ganondorf turned to watch the birds with their bright yellow plumage take flight, wheeling over their heads before zooming over the castle walls. One of the birds dropped a feather, and Ganondorf reached out and caught it as it fell, then handed it to his son, who beamed and conducted an invisible orchestra with it, giggling all the while.

Ganondorf found himself grinning along with the little boy, whose excitement seemed infectious. He felt a twinge of guilt; he didn’t spend enough time with his son outside of when the nurse brought the small children to his and Zelda’s chambers at night. They reached the streets of Castle Town and rode through the people there, who scampered out of his way. He grinned to see it; he’d been on the throne for over fifteen years, and the people still feared him. Yes, it was an excellent arrangement.

They reached the toy store and pulled up outside it; the streets of Castle Town had hitching rails dotted at interval outside the shops, and this was a convenient place to leave his stallion. He could sense many eyes on him as he dismounted and tied his gigantic steed to the rail then lifted Cagono down. Feeling displeasure at what he was about to do, he glared ferociously around at the nearby Hylians, who cowered and edged away, and then pushed open the toyshop door with a tinkle of the bell. He had to stoop to get into the shop, and was fairly sure he heard the doorframe crack when he nearly got his shoulders stuck (thank the Goddess that whoever had built Hyrule Castle had designed it with enormous doors). Straightening up with as superior a look as he could muster, Ganondorf looked around the toyshop, and set a wiggling Cagono on the floor.

The shopkeepers, obviously a husband and wife duo, looked utterly stupefied, staring at him with their mouths ajar. Ganondorf noticed them looking and frowned.

“What?” He snapped, and they looked away hurriedly, before they whispered together furiously. Finally, the wife, a grandmotherly figure with grey hair and a kind smile smoothed her neat apron to her skirts, then came out from behind the counter.

“Uh… good morning, your Majesty.” She began, voice soft with fright. “May I help you?”

He watched her for a moment, enjoying the way she shrank back. “This is your shop?”

“Yes Sire.” She said, a small smile appearing on her plump face. “My husband and I have run this shop for over thirty years. We are Mrs and Mrs Lorke.”

Ganondorf nodded at her. “My son wishes to buy something here; you had better ask him what he wants.”

Mrs Lorke nodded, and at that moment, Cagono came skidding over carrying an enormous teddy bear.

“I want this one!” He cried, voice muffled by the bear.

Ganondorf raised a brow and lifted the bear out of his son’s arms. “Are you sure? It’s bigger than you are. Perhaps you ought to get something you can carry a little more easily.”

Cagono nodded at the wisdom of these words, then turned around to frown at the shelves of toys in obvious contemplation as Ganondorf set the bear on the ground. Mrs Lorke leaned in towards him.

“Are you particularly wanting a bear, Master Prince?”

The little boy wrinkled his nose. “My name is Cagono.”

“And a fine name it is too. Shall I show you our bear department? We had some new ones arrive yesterday.”

Cagono reached up and took the woman’s hand, and she smiled fondly down at him. Ganondorf felt a pang of something like regret; he could never do that with his children – he was too tall.

“Yes please.” Said Cagono, and Mrs Lorke led him away towards the other end of the shop, chattering to the small prince in the easy manner of a child. It was easy to see that the woman adored children.

Ganondorf trailed after them, dodging the oil lamp hanging from the ceiling as he stared around at the shelves of toys with a curious eye. The playthings available to Gerudo younglings were more often than not simple things they constructed themselves, out of mud and rock, and sometimes a stick, if they were lucky enough to find one. Hylian children had all manner of trinkets and toys, from small wind-up tin animals, to enormous dollhouses, stuffed and wooden animals, and even boats to sail on lake Hylia.

“Do you have piggies?” He heard Cagono ask, and barely stifled a sigh. Of course the boy would insist on having another pig.

Mrs Lorke led them over to a section of the shop, where, true to her word, it was nothing but teddy bears and other assorted stuffed animals. Cagono spotted the pig shelf and ran towards it with a happy cry.

“Papa look!” He cried, then tried to scale the shelves like a monkey. Ganondorf had seen a monkey once, in the lands far to the south, in a very much past life. He frowned and grabbed the back of Cagono’s richly embroidered tunic and hoisted him into the air.

“Stay off the shelves, Cagono.” He said with a stern look. The little boy nodded.

“Sorry Papa.”

Mrs Lorke picked up a stuffed pig with a bright blue bow. “Your Highness likes pigs?” She asked in a kindly tone, and Cagono nodded.

“I want a piggy.”

The little boy pointed at a cream coloured pig with three dark spots on its rump, sporting a silk bow the colour of charcoal. “Piggy!!!” He began bouncing on the spot.

Mrs Lorke set down the toy she was holding and picked up the cream pig, handing it to Cagono, who examined it closely then cuddled it to his chest.

“I want this one!” He announced decidedly.

Ganondorf nodded. “Very well.” He said, as Cagono beamed.

“Thank you Papa!”

Picking up the child and following Mrs Lorke back to the counter, Ganondorf sighed slightly as he prepared to pay for the damned pig. He set Cagono down next to the till, and Mr Lorke took the pig and wrapped it carefully in tissue paper, and then the pig was set into a small box, which was then expertly wrapped in neat brown paper and tied with string. Cagono watched these proceedings with a fascinated look on his face, playing with the string as Mr Lorke fastened a tag bearing the name and address of the toyshop to the neat parcel while Mrs Lorke handled the purchase.

“That will be twenty one rupee’s, Sire.” She said, sounding rather nervous at asking payment.

Ganondorf kept his face stern and silent, but reached into his pocket for his moneybag. Counting out the small crystals, he handed over the appropriate amount and received his receipt and then picked up Cagono, who was holding his parcel with a very happy look on his face. The little prince waved over his shoulder at the Lorke’s, who waved back, albeit rather nervously, looking like stunned mullets that the Demon King had just purchased something from them, of all people.

Bending down to fit through the door, there was a definite crack this time, and he glanced back to see that the doorframe had a nice new split in it.

“Whoops.” He said to Cagono in Gerudo, who laughed.

“Silly people!” He said, waving a small fist in the air. “They made the doors too small!”

“That they certainly did.” Ganondorf agreed, mounting his stallion once more. “You like pigs, then, my boy?”

“Yes Papa!”

“Do you want a real one?”

Ganondorf had been thinking. If Cagono wanted a pig… he’d give him a pig. He’d give him a pig of the likes no one had ever seen, one that no one could find fault with. He thought for a moment Cagono’s eyes would fall out of his head.

“A real piggy!” He gasped. “Really?”

“Really.” Ganondorf confirmed. “I’ll get you one, but don’t tell your Mama! It’ll be a surprise.”

Cagono bounced up and down while making an inarticulate noise of glee, which made the stallion snort and shake his head. Ganondorf grinned.

Once the reached the castle, Ganondorf unsaddled his steed then carried Cagono up towards his quarters. Setting him down on the ground outside the door, he ruffled the child’s hair.

“Run in and show Mama your new pig, but don’t tell her about your surprise!”

Cagono nodded seriously, then tore through the door. “Mama! Mama! Mama!”

Following at a more sedate pace, Ganondorf entered the circular chamber to find Zelda looking a little better than she had before; she’d evidently slept, which had agreed with her.

“Hello my darling, what have you got there?” She asked, pulling the blanket aside so their son could snuggle up next to her.

“Papa got it for me!” He crowed, then tugged at the string. “Lookie, Mama! It’s a piggy!”

Sitting down in an armchair, Ganondorf watched as Zelda helped Cagono unbox the pig; she gasped theatrically when the toddler triumphantly lifted it out of the tissue paper.

“Oh, it’s lovely.” She said, then kissed their son’s wild red curls. “Did you thank Papa?”

“Yes!” Cagono pretended the box was a stage for the pig to prance about on, making Zelda laugh. Ganondorf grinned at her as she smiled at him.

“I’m very pleased.” She said softly. “Thank you.”

* * *

Three weeks later, Ganondorf went looking for Cagono again. His surprise had arrived. He found the little boy in Zelda’s bedchamber, sitting on the floor and trying to work out a puzzle with his mother. They both looked up when he entered the room, Zelda with a smile and Cagono with a flail.

“Guess what, Cagono?”

“What, Papa?”

“Your surprise is here. Want to go and see it?”

Cagono immediately threw his hands in the air, making it rain puzzle pieces. Ganondorf held out a hand for Zelda to take as she stood up. He leaned down and kissed the hand he still held as his Queen smiled at him.

“What surprise?” She laughed, touching Cagono’s cheek as he scampered around them in circles, chanting “‘Prize! ‘Prize! ‘Prize!”

“You’ll see.” He said, then tucked her hand into the crook of her elbow. “How’s the baby?”

Zelda smiled and laid a hand on her barely noticeable bump. “Good.”

“Mama! Papa! Let’s goooo!” Yelled Cagono at the top of his lungs, and Ganondorf reached down and scooped the child up.

“Settle down, munchkin.” Said Zelda fondly, ruffling the bright red curls. “All in good time.”

Cagono flipped himself upside down, arms hanging limp. “Maaammmaaaa!”

Ganondorf chuckled. “Come on then.”

“Yes!” Cagono bounced happily in his arms, and clapped as they started walking.

“Where’s the surprise?” Asked Zelda as they left the circular chamber. “Is it very far away?”

“It’s at the stables.”

“The stables?” Zelda looked befuddled. “Is it a horse? Did you get him a horse?”

“Guess again, Zelda.”

They spent much of the walk trying to calm Cagono’s boisterous excitement; he dropped his cream piggy no less than five times in between the circular chamber and the Great Hall. Eventually, they were crossing the courtyard to reach the stables. Ganondorf had ordered the stable boys to clear out, so the space was empty of Hylians as he led Zelda through the stalls. They reached a stall with the doors shut firmly, and Ganondorf set Cagono on the ground.

“Ready?” He asked, and the child bounced wildly as he swung the door open.

Zelda’s gasp of astonishment mingled with her son’s squeal of excitement as they beheld what was in the stall. It was a tiny piglet curled up in the straw.

“A piglet?” Asked Zelda, wonder in her tone. She looked up at him, surprise etched on her features. “Why would _you_ give him a pig?”

Ganondorf chuckled. “That is no mere pig.” He motioned over to where the toddler was crouched in the straw, gently stroking the piglet’s snout while it snuffled at his fingers. “It may look small and pathetic now, but it will grow into a mighty beast capable of carrying even me. It is a war boar, a descendant of the beasts I bred for my armies centuries ago.”

Zelda frowned. “You are giving your two year old son a war boar.” She stated flatly, disapproval clear in her tone.

“Yep.” He said, feeling quite satisfied. “Maybe I’ll get one for all the kids.”

Cagono was now introducing his stuffed pig to the real one; the piglet, eyes bright with interest, was climbing all over the little boy’s lap and snuffling the cream pig with curious snorts. The piglet was a deep jet black in colour; when it was grown into its tusks and fangs it would be quite the intimidating specimen.

“Can you really see Ciery with a war boar?” Asked Zelda, scepticism clear in her tone.

“Weeellll, maybe not Cissy, or Niruni…” He deliberated. “Or Saffie. But the rest? Certainly. Reeva would ravage towns with one. But who knows? Maybe they’d want one if I asked them.”

“Hmm.”

“Mama look!” Cagono crowed, and that made Zelda smile. She entered the stall and sat down in the straw, and Ganondorf followed.

The piglet set about thoroughly investigating these two new additions to his stall, and Ganondorf tipped Cagono’s chin up to make sure the child was listening.

“The piglet will live here, in the stables, and you must visit him everyday and take him on walks, and when you are old enough you will have to feed him, all right?”

The little boy with Gerudo colouring nodded wildly. “Yes, Papa!”

Zelda was stroking the piglet, who was grunting madly as she scratched his back. “He’s very sweet.” She said with a smile. “What will you name him, baby?”

Cagono scrunched up his face as he deliberated. “Ummmm… I don’t know.”

“Don’t put him on the spot like that.” Ganondorf chided, nudging Zelda’s arm. “He’s got plenty of time to choose something.”

The Hylian Queen smiled and leaned into his side. “What a lovely thing to do for him.” She whispered. “Even if it is a _war boar_.” She said it like it was a dirty word.

Ganondorf chuckled, wrapping his arm around her waist as he watched Cagono rolling around in the straw with the piglet. “Cagono likes it, and that’s the important part.”

“Very true.” Zelda acknowledged. “Tell me truthfully though, can you survive the gossip and conjecture you’ll have submitted yourself to by giving your son a pig?”

He snickered slightly. “It won’t be pleasant, but after I’ve threatened enough people, they’ll stop talking. Besides, this is an acceptable pig of my own choosing, and they’ll soon see that. War boars grow rapidly; I bred them to. That wee beastie will soon be able to eat any courtiers that insult it, so there.”

Zelda wrinkled her nose. “Charming. But what do you mean, you _bred_ it? You’ve been here for fifteen years – how could you have bred it?”

“I originally perfected the breed some centuries ago. I immediately commandeered an island deep in the middle of the most unexplored ocean for them. It was an extremely unpleasant journey, but I did it anyway. You see, I bred them to be omnivores; the island vegetation sustains the wild population, and ensures I’ll always have breeding stock for my armies, no matter how long it takes me to be reincarnated.”

“I see.” Zelda smiled. “What happens to them after this life? You won’t be there to oversee them.”

Ganondorf shrugged, supremely unconcerned. “They’ve managed for centuries; they’ll manage still.”

“So when, exactly, did you go to an island in the middle of the ocean and track down a wild piglet, and then domesticate it to this extent?”

For the piglet was domesticated, and thoroughly so – it was on Cagono’s lap, squealing happily as the little boy tickled under his chin.

“Last week. It wasn’t hard to capture one too young to have learned such violent behaviour from its mother, and then I’ve had it here at the stables to get it used to human contact.”

“Last week…” Zelda eyed him suspiciously. “That wasn’t the day you came home half naked, covered in mud and scratches, was it?”

Ganondorf chuckled. “It was. When I say it wasn’t hard… the mother seriously objected to me taking one of her piglets, and she and some of the other mature ones ganged up on me. War boars are very large and angry, you know. I didn’t want to harm any of them, so I ended up getting dragged through the undergrowth for nearly a mile.”

She laughed. “That ought to have been quite the sight to behold.”

“It was.” He agreed.

At that moment, Cagono toddling came over with the piglet snuffling at his heels and clambered into his lap.

“Thank you Papa.” The little boy said softly, eyes shining as he hugged him tightly. Ganondorf smiled a slow smile at Zelda as he recognised forgiveness in the boy’s face. “Love you, Papa.” Cagono mumbled into his shoulder.

Ganondorf stroked the toddler’s soft hair and met Zelda’s smile as she reached up and touched her hand softly to his cheek. All had been forgiven, except he spoke a moment to soon.

“You’re still mean, Papa.” Said Cagono quietly. “But you’re nice too. You should be nice always, Papa.”

Zelda shook her head fondly, and Ganondorf gave her an exasperated look.

“Very well, my son. I’ll try.”

Cagono snuggled closer, a happy noise leaving his throat. The piglet squealed at having been left out, and Ganondorf hoisted it into his lap. So Cagono _had_ forgiven him after all, but still recognised his capacity for ‘meanness’ as he called it. Well. If the child was truly as precocious and intuitive as he seemed, that only reinforced his previous thoughts – he’d have to tread _very_ carefully around this little boy.


	15. Steam Engine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eriah, the inventor child of the family, is helping bring the magic of steam engines to Hyrule.
> 
> (is this just an excuse to have spirit tracks trains in this au? yes.)

Zelda shifted slightly on her throne, waiting for the next visitor to be announced. As was custom on a Tuesday, she and her husband were in the Throne Room and awaiting the visits of any such people who should choose to petition them to all manner of proposals. As always, her line was much longer, for most preferred to speak to her, rather than the imposing Gerudo King, who was still inclined to glower and threaten, even after over thirty years on the Hylian throne.

Age had been kind to Zelda, and at fifty-two years of age her figure was still youthful, and though there was grey in her hair and lines at her eyes and mouth, she was still seen as graceful and lovely. Ganondorf remained imposing as ever, though at sixty seven his once formidable and impressive musculature, though still powerful and mighty, had rather swapped clearly defined muscles for the slight paunch of age, a fact he was not overly impressed with.

The armour he had worn when he conquered Hyrule in their youth no longer quite fitted properly; this was something he was very bitter about and glared whenever he passed it, sitting on its mannequin in his bedchamber. This ran briefly through her mind as she glanced over at him, eyeing his luxuriously cut robes as he lounged on his enormous throne.

The footman at the door stepped forwards, ready to announce the latest petitioner. 

“Announcing the Princess Eriah and Mr Teran Berbellum, son and heir of Lord Berbellum, Earl of Whitlo.”

Zelda and Ganondorf exchanged confused looks. “Eriah?” Said Zelda in low undertone. “Why is she petitioning?”

Ganondorf shrugged. “No idea. Who’s the man she’s with?”

“Teran Berbellum. He’s heir to the earldom of Whitlo. I know they danced at Eriah’s coming out ball, but I didn’t know they’d made further acquaintance.”

“Why does the name Berbellum sound familiar?”

Zelda snickered slightly. “It ought to be; he’s the great-great grandson of Malo Berbellum. The famous naturalist? Isiya never stops talking about him.”

“Ah.” 

The door opened to reveal their youngest daughter, now a pretty and refined young lady of nineteen, and Mr Berbellum, who revealed himself to be a tall, slender young man with blonde hair that flopped over his eyes no matter how many times he pushed it back. He was carrying an easel, no doubt to display the many papers he had with him.

Teran bowed sharply. “Your Majesties.”

Zelda raised a brow as Eriah cast the young man a fond smile.

“Oh, don’t be silly Teran.” The youngest princess said, walking towards the thrones. “You needn’t stand on ceremony with Mama and Papa.”

Ganondorf leaned forwards with his menacing face on. “Oh?” He growled, and Zelda swatted his arm lightly.

“Don’t scare him.” She murmured in an undertone, before she turned to her daughter. “What are you doing, Eriah? You know you needn’t petition us if you wish to talk.”

“Oh, I’m not here to petition, Mama. Teran is. I’m just here for the moral support.”

“Indeed?” Zelda settled back in her throne. “Then let us hear what he has to say.”

Eriah bit her lip as she watched Teran quailing under the double glare of her parents. Not that mama was glaring, but she did look quite imposing on her throne.

“Your Majesties.” Teran stuttered slightly, then straightened, setting up the easel and papers. Eriah nodded encouragingly, and he took a deep breath, and began.

“Your Majesties, I’d like to propose a new method of travelling within our kingdom.”

“Travelling?” Asked Ganondorf, and Eriah cast him a worried look. She sincerely hoped her parents wouldn’t shoot him down; Teran had worked hard on this. They both had.

“Yes, travelling. I ought to say transport, really, for the traveling aspect won’t change, merely how we do it.”

“You mean by magic?” Asked Zelda, leaning forwards. She looked interested, which Eriah thought a good thing.

“Not quite, your Majesty.”

“Have you redesigned the saddle?” Asked Ganondorf sarcastically, and Eriah frowned at him.

“No, I-”

“Or the carriage, perhaps?”

Eriah scowled. “Papa, let him finish!”

Teran smiled gratefully at her, and she smiled back.

“I believe-” He said, picking up a detailed diagram. “-that _steam_ is our future.”

“Steam?” Zelda raised a sceptical brow. “Forgive me, but I do not see how that applies to revolutionising our mode of transport.”

“Well-” Teran held up a hand and flicked to anther diagram. “This is the schematic of a basic internal combustion engine. The first rudimentary steam engines were invented some years ago, and now they are fairly common in small machines.”

Zelda nodded. “Of course. I am well acquainted with the man who invented it.”

Teran nodded. “For a few years now, I’ve been working on an idea, well, more like the concept for an idea – this new mode of transport.” He pointed to the engine schematic. “It is based heavily on this. I believe that if we can scale up the size of the engine, make it more powerful and put it on wheels, it would be capable of powering a machine that transport people.”

“A machine that can transport people?” Asked Zelda, curiosity in her tone. “In theory, it is a good idea… but how would you put it into practice? How would you control it? How would it traverse such varied terrain? Have you gotten that far?”

Teran flushed a little. “Of course, your Majesty. In fact-” He motioned to her, and Eriah grinned. “-It was the Princess who came up with the solution to that problem. Princess?”

Eriah went over to the easel and flipped to the next diagram. “We’ve already thought about terrain, Mama. We were thinking, and thinking, and thinking, and then we thought – _tracks_.”

“Tracks?” Zelda was looking very interested now, and Ganondorf was clearly listening, even if he was putting off an air of nonchalance.

“We combed over every single map of Hyrule we could find, and we found the best routes through all the provinces. These machines would follow the premade tracks, and there would be designated stops at each town or city, where people could get on and off as they so choose.”

“Over the whole of Hyrule?” Mama raised a brow. “This is an ambitious project.”

“Yes it is.” Said Eriah, taking a few steps forwards. “But surely you can see how beneficial it would be, Mama! We hope that it wouldn’t just transport people, but animals for sale, trade and even building materials!”

“Tracks covering the whole of Hyrule is not half so ambitious as the Princess’s next idea.” Put in Teran. “If it is a success in Hyrule, why not expand? We could directly import trade from other countries, make inter-kingdom travel far more accessible, and-”

“And we could build them into the desert!” Finished Eriah excitedly.

That got Ganondorf’s attention. He leaned forwards. “The desert?”

“Yes, Papa.” Eriah flicked through until she found the next map they’d created, and darted over to stand next to her father. “See? We could make the valley so much more accessible. It would make trade far easier too. Imagine; a machine capable of carrying many tonnes of material back and forth. You’d not need to stop to rest and water horses, or worry about injury or attack from creatures, because the machine would be made very solidly of iron or some other such thing, and you’d not need half so many people to take it!”

“So all these people will lose their jobs?” Inquired Zelda, and Eriah pulled back in shock.

“Well, I suppose.” She began uncomfortably. “Some will, but horses and manual labour will not be rendered obsolete just from this. Some people will need to find other jobs, that is true, but think! These machines will create employment!”

“How?” Ganondorf asked blankly.

Eriah took a deep breath. “People will be needed to construct the machines, build the tracks, and then maintained them once they are built. People will need to learn to operate the machines, and repair them should they break down. Not to mention, people could be employed at the – the stops, to sell food and drink, or tickets! We haven’t decided if we should use this for monetary gain.”

“Well, I think it has merit.” Said Zelda, and Eriah beamed. “Are you here because you want funding, Mr Berbellum?”

“Not quite, your Majesty.” Said Teran, who looked just as excited as Eriah felt. Mama thought it was a good idea! Perhaps their dream would come to fruition after all.

Eriah smiled as she watched him continue. He really was a sweetheart. 

“My father has agreed to finance a testing model in small scale, to see if our designs are capable of both actually working and carrying two or three people around a small track. If it works, we can expand, and will most likely need to enlarge our funding then, but that is not the main reason we are here. My father has agreed to fund our little project on the condition that both your Majesties agree. After all, should the test run work, and we can get this operating on an industrial scale, tracks will need to be installed throughout Hyrule… which is of course the property of your Majesties.” Teran finished this speech with a small bow, and looked hopefully at her parents, a look which Eriah eagerly repeated.

“Very well.” Zelda said after a moment’s consideration. “Here’s what we’ll do. Build your test run, prove that your ideas are both sound and safe for your operators and passengers, and then we will discuss it further.”

Teran beamed, and Eriah exchanged an excited look with him.  
“Thank you, your Majesties.”

He packed up his easel and left, and Eriah darted back over to her parents as soon as the door shut.

“Thank you Mama, Papa! You won’t regret it.” She promised.

“Who can resist such fervour?” Said Ganondorf drily.

Eriah giggled slightly and kissed his cheek. “I promise you won’t, Papa! Now, I must catch Teran before he leaves!”

Zelda turned to her husband as she watched her youngest daughter dart across the room and out the door, her long coppery curls bouncing wildly and her cheeks flushed. 

“This is what comes of letting her pull all the clocks in the castle to pieces.” Ganondorf said with a frown. “Building steam machines?”

Zelda rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly. You know she’s always liked clockworks, and anyway, I think we’ve more to be concerned with the way they were looking at each other. I think there’ll be another royal wedding soon, don’t you?” She said with a wry grin at the exaggerated look of disgust on Ganondorf’s face. “ _And_ he’s the heir to an earldom – it’s not like we can disapprove.”

“Ugh, not _another_ wedding.” He groaned. 

“I might take a moment to remind you exactly who wanted this many daughters. I might also remind you that makes it _your_ fault you have to suffer through their getting married.”

“Why couldn’t they all be like Reeva? _She’s_ the clear model of perfection here.”

“Reeva has a partner, Gan. Did you forget already?”

“Yes, but she’s not _married_ to her, is she? That’s the important part.”

Zelda rolled her eyes. “You ridiculous creature.” She signalled the footman at the door to send in the next petitioner. “Well, whether or not a marriage will occur is something for the future. What do you think of this ‘steam engine’ idea?”

“I like the points they made about making trade and travel to the desert easier.” Ganondorf said, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. “But of course, it’s rather a moot point until we see if their designs will actually work or not.”

“Very true. We shall just have to wait.”


End file.
